Just A Dream
by SorceressSupreme
Summary: Astrid is the infamous vigilante known as the Nightwatcher in New York, the City of Heroes. A strange ceremony alerts her to the presence of a man that must have something to do with her past. Desperate to find him Astrid searches out heroes such as the Punisher and Daredevil. On the verge of giving up she finds him. Is Dr. Stephen Strange the answer to all her problems? Review!
1. You Cast a Spell on Me

**A/N: Guest viewers, I know it seems like a slow start for this fanfic, but I'm asking you guys to give it a chance please. The first two chapters basically give you an idea of who Astrid Blake is and what her role in my fanmade MARVEL universe is. If you're patient and continue reading, you'll see that chapter 3 is where things start to pick up. :)**

* * *

_"That is impossible. Any relation to persons living or dead is **completely** coincidental."_ -Gru, _Despicable Me_

"Miranda!" Astrid screams when the thug pulls a gun. The woman catapults herself forward but she's kicked back by another thug. She falls, her vision swimming dizzyingly, and darkness takes her.

Blinding light. Light that pierces her eyes and makes her want to scream from pain and anguish. Her head hurts. It feels like a thousand tiny needles are poking her from the inside of her skull.  
"Miranda..." Astrid moans softly. A figure kneels over her. Astrid gives a start in surprise. She's seen him before somewhere but she can't seem to remember where. Yet no matter how many times she's seen him the surprise never seems to wear off.  
Astrid tries to speak past the lump in her throat. She wants to know where Miranda is. The doctor places his hand on her forehead then sweeps her hair back from her face.  
"It's alright," the doctor says in soothing tones. "You've been badly hurt but I can fix that. I'll take care of you." His grey eyes bore into hers. "I'll take care of you." he repeats.

* * *

Astrid jerked awake to the sound of the bedside alarm. She reached out, fumbling in the dark until she felt the satisfying click of a button. The annoying sound of the alarm abruptly ceased. Astrid lay back against the pillows, her eyes searching the ceiling for answers. Much as she would have liked to go back to sleep she knew that once she was awake there was no going back. Besides, she had work today.

Astrid rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes, evidence of a lack of a good night's rest. It was hard to sleep well when she was having these nightmares all the time.

"Another dream?" she asked the emptiness around her. She sighed and slid out of bed, the old mattress groaning from the pressure. After six years of having the same recurring dream it should stop surprising her.

"It doesn't surprise me," she replied defensively to her tangled thoughts. '_I just feel like there's something missing from the dream.'_ After dreaming she always woke up with a sense of loss, like she'd just begun to grasp at something only to have it taken away from her again. It was beyond frustrating, and more than a little disorienting.

Flipping on the bathroom light Astrid then threw on her work clothes, which were a dark blue skirt and a white blouse. Elegant and uncomfortable. Perfect for business clothes. In under thirty minutes she was ready for the day.

Astrid entered the cramped kitchen of her apartment. There were clothes flung over chairs and unwashed dishes in the sink. She winced at the unfortunate sight. She'd been meaning to clean that up. Eventually.

As always, Astrid paused in the doorway of her kitchen, where a photo of her best friend was tacked to the wall next to the fridge. Her gaze lingered sadly on the picture.

"I had a dream about you last night," Astrid said wistfully.

The kitchen lights cast a white glare on the picture. Astrid kissed her thumb and pressed it over Miranda's face. "I miss you," she whispered. Miranda grinned back at her, dark curls framing her oval face, bright blue eyes smiling at her from behind those wire-rimmed glasses.

Turning away, Astrid poured herself a cup of coffee. She ate a quick breakfast then had to rush out the door so she wasn't late for work.

* * *

"Parker!"

Astrid jumped in her seat when she heard the eruption from her boss's office. From the safety of her desk Astrid watched as Peter Parker hurriedly made his way through the cluttered room of the _Daily Bugle_ and disappear into the dragon's lair. She smirked, glad that it wasn't _her_ being chewed out.

Astrid was a photo editor for the _Daily Bugle. _There was never an end to the excitement at her job. Ever since Parker showed up her days as a photo editor had taken a turn for the better. It was interesting to scan and edit Parker's photos of Spiderman. After awhile though Spiderman somehow lost his charm. Astrid liked her job, she really did, but after years of editing Spiderman photos it was starting to get a little, well, _boring._ Sometimes there was a break in the monotony, like pictures of squirrels in the park or old people playing chess. _Or__dinary _things. God what she wouldn't give for some photos of the Avengers at the Battle of New York. Now _that _would have been interesting. Apparently Parker had been on his honeymoon when freakish aliens started falling out of the sky. Everyone else at her station was too afraid to go out and capture the battle on film. _The fools._

The woman added some shading to the photo pasted on the computer. Type type, _click. _From out of nowhere her adrenals suddenly went on full alert, the hairs on the back of her neck going stiff. Her mouth went dry. Astrid took a deep breath, then let it out. Parker was approaching.

"Astrid? Um, sorry to bother you.. I have some-"

Astrid swiveled in her chair to face Parker. She smiled brightly up at the young man.

"Heya Pete! What have ya got for me today?"

Peter handed her a short stack of photos. She flipped through them slowly. Not surprisingly, they were all of Spiderman.

"What did Jameson say?" she asked as she studied the pictures.

Peter shrugged. "Oh, you know..." He cleared his throat and affected the barking smoker's voice their boss had. "Crap! Crap! It's all crap!" His voice resumed it's normal tone. "But then of course he wants to keep them." Peter shook his head wonderingly.

The odd sensation didn't fade with time. She still felt like her nerves were on end. Astrid was used to Parker's oddness though. Out of everyone in this office only _he_ was the strange one.

Ignoring her sixth sense Astrid got back to business. "So Jameson wants these edited then..?" she held the photos aloft.

"Yeah." Peter nodded, jamming his hands in his pockets. "He never misses a chance to profane Spiderman."

Astrid nodded sympathetically. She knew that Peter was friends with the masked vigilante. It sucked to have your friend's name smeared by the public.

"Okay lemme just finish with these..." she gestured to the photos on the computer screen. Her voice trailed off when she looked at the last picture in the pile. The photo was taken at a street corner at night. Yellow streetlights clearly illumined a figure retreating from view. The figure was clad all in black with flame designs on the leggings. Short blonde hair escaped from the back of the face mask that the person wore.

"...thing wrong?" Peter was asking her a question. Astrid came back into focus. She quickly composed herself.

"Who's this?" she asked, holding up the photo. "It's not your usual stuff.." Astrid forced a laugh out. Inside she was trembling.

"Mmm..." Peter frowned thoughtfully. "I don't remember taking that one..." He took the photo back and tucked it into his jacket. Astrid gave him a questioning look.

"I only take photos for Spiderman," Peter said with a shrug. "I wouldn't want to get the other vigilantes in trouble by taking their picture. You know how crazy Jameson can be."

Astrid cracked a relieved smile. "I guess the 'other' vigilantes are a bit camera shy, huh?"

Parker nodded. smirking. "You could say that again. Well, take care Astrid." He gave a little wave and departed. The strange sensation that Astrid was feeling faded as he walked away.

Astrid could_ definitely_ think of a few heros who were 'camera shy'. Herself included. Geez with as much hell as Spiderman got on a weekly basis, most of the vigilantes preferred to keep a low profile. Some though, like the infamous Daredevil, liked to flaunt their presence by leaving their signature behind. Astrid could care less about signatures. She was out for justice. Nothing more, _nothing less_.

Astrid got back to work, her fingers flying over the keys. Her mind was back on Parker though. Parker and his odd behavior. Why _had_ he taken the photo back? Was it because he was trying to cover for Astrid? Or did he really have no idea who the figure in the background was? Astrid sighed and rubbed at her temples. Surely Parker didn't know about her. He just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. Astrid would know if Peter knew about her being a vigilante. There would be _no way_ he could hide it.

* * *

"What do you think?" Astrid asked Miranda as they pulled up to the high-rise apartments.

Miranda took a moment to study the ugly grey and brown building. Then her face split in an infectious grin. "Home sweet home!" she cried and bounded out of the car. Astrid laughed and followed after her friend.

On the inside the place didn't look so bad. A bit small, but it was the only place they could afford for now. Miranda stepped into their tiny two-bedroom apartment, a look of awe etched on her features. She turned about in a slow circle, taking in everything at once. Astrid watched from the doorway, biting back a smile.

"I love it! I love it here!" Miranda yelled excitedly.

"C'mon let's check it out," Astrid ran through the rooms, mentally planning out where all the furniture would be placed. The place could certainly use a paint job, and there looked to be a leak in the hall bathroom, but Astrid supposed they'd cross those bridges all in good time. Astrid was scrutinizing the first bedroom down the hallway when Miranda startled her by screaming.

"Can you BELIEVE it?" Miranda squealed from the doorway. She was bouncing up and down in excitement. "It's just like we've always dreamed! Our very own place... in New York!" the taller woman beamed at Astrid.

Astrid rolled her eyes playfully. "Well... It's not _quite_ everything I've ever dreamed..." she paused for dramatic effect. "I'm still waiting for a superhero to come and sweep me off my feet!"

They both laughed at the inside joke. New York's vast population of superheros was just _one_ of the reasons they'd moved to the city in the first place.

"Well watch out for Tony Stark," Miranda warned. "I've heard he does things like that on a regular basis."

Astrid crinkled her nose in distaste. "Ugh. No, _anyone_ but Stark. _Ple-ease._" she looked pleadingly up at the ceiling, intending to direct this prayer to the heavens. Miranda laughed at the expression on her face.

"Aw he's not _that_ bad," Miranda said defensively. "Conceited. Rich. Arrogant." she ticked her fingers off one by one. "But at least he's cute."

Astrid shuddered involuntarily. "I repeat: _anyone but Stark."_

Miranda stepped into the room and threw her arm over her friend's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "Don't worry Astrid. You're hero's out there." Sincerity shone through her blue eyes. "Just you wait. You'll see."

* * *

"I'm still waiting, Miranda," Astrid whispered. After all these years, she was still waiting. Astrid pulled the car into the parking spot. It had been a long boring day at work and she was relieved to finally be home. She ascended the worn gray steps up to her apartment.

"I'm home!" she called into the empty apartment. Silence greeted her. Surprise surprise. Astrid set down her beige handbag and tossed her jacket on the couch. Glancing at the clock she was startled to see that it was only 6:38. She had thought it was later than that.

"Just three more hours..." she muttered.

Astrid went to her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. The hot water ran over her skin and helped to ease some of the tension. Astrid leaned her head back, allowing the water to wash over her face. _Just three more hours._

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**A/N: Thank you for reading! Reviews are much appreciated :)**


	2. Complicated

"Miranda! You'll never believe it!"

Astrid bounded into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face. Before her friend could give a bewildered reply, Astrid cut in with, "I got hired! At _The Daily Bugle. _I'm their new photo editor!"

Miranda's blue eyes widened into saucers. Her hands were covered in flour due to the cookies that she'd been baking. The room erupted with her shrieks of joy. Miranda grabbed Astrid's hands and danced her around the room. White flour got all over them both.

"I knew it! I _knew _you'd get the job!" Miranda smirked knowingly. "I mean, how could they possibly resist your feminine charms?" She batted her lashes playfully.

Astrid laughed at her friend. She threw herself into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I think they must have been pretty desperate for a new editor." she said thoughtfully. "Apparently the old one had quit on them a couple days ago so I arrived just in time." What a relief too. When the girls had first moved to New York the one thing that had been on Astrid's mind was how in the world she was to get a job. And what kind of job to get too. Thankfully she had that behind her now.

Miranda shook her head wonderingly. "Wow. This is so great. We're here for little over a week and already we both have our dream jobs. And you get to see all those cool pictures too... Work some editing magic on them." she winked at Astrid from across the table.

Crossing her and uncrossing her legs, Miranda leaned forward confidentially. "So... What about your boss? Is he cute? What do you think of him? Do you like him? Does he work out?" Miranda's questions were getting more and more bizarre the longer she spoke. Astrid quickly cut in before Miranda said anything _too_ crazy.

"My boss? Ugh. No he's not cute, not even a little bit so don't bother asking. His name's Jonah Jameson and the guy seems to be in a permanently crabby mood. He actually yelled at me to get out of his office when I asked about the job. Then he changed his mind when he realised he was out of luck what with no photo editor around." Astrid shrugged nonchalantly. "Other than a crappy boss I think I'll like my job a lot."

Miranda nodded. "Yeah. That's good, at least you like the job." She smiled encouragingly at Astrid.

Miranda already had employment. There was a bakery down the street that she worked at for five days a week. Without Miranda's hard work they might not have been able to make the move in the first place. Astrid's friend had dreams of someday owning her own establishment, but for now the 22 year olds contented themselves with sharing a cramped apartment in the city of heroes.

* * *

Astrid pulled herself back to the present. 9:22, the clock read. That meant night had fallen. When she thought about it though, it was never truly night in this city. _The city never sleeps,_ or so she was told.

Pulling open her closet door she then knelt down, banging her knees on the scuffed floorboards. She shoved aside mismatched shoes, a dusty textbook, and a trashed CD player that she'd planned on getting fixed. Digging her fingers into the slim cracks in the floorboards on either side of the closet, she lifted up the board to reveal the hidden compartment beneath. Astrid set aside the board and pulled out the contents within. She removed a solid black outfit, a pair of combat boots, and last of all a pair of charcoal jeans with red and gold flame designs. This aspect of the costume was her favorite. The music playing from her Ipod provided a good background beat as she suited up.

_"You cast a spell on me (spell on me), ya hit me like the sky fell on me (fell on me), and I decided you look well on me (well on me) so let's go somewhere no one else can see you and me,"_

The rhythm of the Wanted flooded through her veins, making her want to dance. Her hips swayed to the beat as she shrugged on her bulletproof vest over the rest of the ensemble. After slipping on her combat boots Astrid once again knelt in front of the closet to retrieve her weapons. She strapped on a stun gun, tucked a pistol into the holster at her belt, and slipped a switchblade into an ankle sheath in her right boot. Last of all Astrid tied on the black face bandanna that served as her mask. She knew that criminals didn't take a vigilante seriously if they could see the person's face. Especially if that vigilante happened to be a girl.

Astrid slipped out her bedroom window, clinging tightly to the sill. The fire escape was only a few feet away. She'd done this a thousand times before. The lunge across open space seemed natural to her now.

For a brief moment she was freefalling, then her hands slapped down hard on the cold surface of the rungs. Her momentum crashed her against the fire escape, jarring her bones. The metal structure rattled from the impact.

A cool wind nipped at her neck as Astrid ascended the rungs to the roof of her building. Then she began traversing the lone rooftops of Manhattan in search of trouble.

Nightwatcher. That's what she was called. It didn't take long for word to get around about a new vigilante working the streets. The public saw her emergence as a threat, which wasn't too surprising. The criminals however, took her approach as a challenge.

Those first few years were some of the worst Astrid had ever experienced. Criminals got cocky. They liked to push the boundaries with superheroes as well as vigilantes, which meant the element of danger had been increased.

When Astrid first put on the mask, thus initiating herself into the vigilante world, she had no idea what she was getting herself into.

It was tough. A lot of the time she'd come home bruised, bloody, and beaten. She could have given up, She could have chosen a normal life, a _safe_ life. The decision lay before her to fight or flee. She always chose to fight. Criminals learned pretty soon that she wasn't one to mess with. They learned that the name of Nightwatcher was to be taken seriously.

However, street thugs weren't the only ones that needed to learn that.

Other vigilantes got wind of her presence on the streets. A few were a little more than curious about her. On several occasions she had crossed paths with Daredevil, and each new meeting tested not only her strength but also her endurance. The man made it a point that the streets were no place for pansies. So she proved to him that she was just the opposite of that.

Astrid had a real run for her money though when she first encountered the Punisher.

* * *

Astrid was twelve years old when her parents bought her her first dog. They had decided that she was finally old enough to handle the responsibility of training a puppy. Astrid was in Cloud 9 when she first laid eyes on the fluffy golden Labrador Retriever. She loved him to pieces.

It didn't take long though for the pup to cause her trouble. Housetraining wasn't the worst of it. No, _that_ was the easy part. When the puppy entered the teething phase he went around destroying anything he could get his paws on! Shoes and books, TVs and lamps, all suffered at the teeth of that little Lab. Astrid was exasperated with all the vexation he was causing her. She took responsibility for everything damaged or destroyed, which took a lot out of her pocket. She did everything she could to get the dog to stop. She used newspapers, she locked him outside, she changed his diet... EVERYTHING! She tried and tried until finally, one day she'd had enough and was considering getting rid of the dog. He was too much work and she'd simply run out of patience for him.

Astrid could sorely empathize with her dog now. When the Punisher found her he was none too pleased with her performance. And that's putting it nicely. Once the man with the guns got his hands on Astrid he aimed to set her straight.

So for a time she worked with the Punisher. Well more like she watched while he demonstrated the _proper_ way to fight scum. He actually taught her a few valuable tricks and even gave her the loop on which weapons were best for what.

For the most part Frank was a patient teacher. There were times though when Astrid felt like a whipped puppy. Actually, she felt like that _a lot._ He got onto her about everything. It seemed that there was no perfect way to do something. It was frustrating beyond belief to have to deal with that man.

Fortunately her puppy grew out of that phase. Frank Castle, apparently, was _still_ waiting for her to grow out of it.

She and Frank had differing views on how they should handle criminals. Frank was pro-choice, meaning he should have the right to kill the scum and then the world would be a better place. Astrid was pro-life, in that the criminals should be caught and sent to prison where they would have a _long_ time to think about their decisions. The Punisher... Well he _punished_ all right but Astrid didn't see the point of killing off criminals as retribution. Where was the lesson in that? A dead person can't learn from his mistakes. Astrid, personally, preferred not to kill. In her opinion murder should be a last resort. Frank argued that the scum should be disposed of before they could hurt anyone else. Which was a good argument, but Astrid liked to believe that given the chance, even a criminal could change for the better.

Given the chance...

Astrid's mind flew back to the present as she crouched on the rooftop of a nameless building. _Miranda should have had a chance._ Astrid gritted her teeth and launched herself across the open chasm that was an alleyway below. Her feet hit the roof of the next building.

Astrid took a deep breath then let it out. She needed to have a clear mind if she was going to find the sort of trouble she was looking for. Moving along at a sprint she traveled up the West Side, keeping her senses on full alert.

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**A/N: Read and review :)**


	3. I'm Glad You Came

**A/N:**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**

**ANimATioN ImAgInAtIoN: I love your reviews and I'm so glad that you're reading my story :) When you say the sorcerer is interesting, is that a good thing? Lol**

**JotunChick11: Thank you for reading and reviewing. Now you know what she's gonna do-ah!**

* * *

It was getting late, very late, when she stopped for a rest. Her breath came in frosty huffs from the autumn chill. Looking about Astrid found herself in the factory district.

"Great." Astrid muttered to herself.

It wasn't likely she'd find anything here. Half the buildings were abandoned or rundown. Should anyone inhabit them it'd more than likely be a homeless person.

Frustrated with herself, Astrid shimmied down a fire escape and disappeared into an alleyway. Her boots made soft scuffing noises on the dry concrete as she headed in the direction of home again.

She froze, suddenly, when her body flooded with adrenaline. Her amber eyes dilated, the hairs on the back of her neck went stiff, and she had a sour taste on her tongue. There was no ignoring the signals her body was giving her.

Astrid swallowed a couple times to try and get the sickening taste out of her mouth. Muscles loosening a bit, Astrid straightened up. She cocked her head to the side, in the direction that the disturbance was coming from.

Three steps down the alley then she took a left and came out onto a broader thoroughfare. Fortunately for her the street was empty at this time of night.

The alarming sensation grew stronger with every step she took. Her body trembled slightly from the pure _force_ of what she was feeling. Something crazy weird must be going on. Astrid could only wonder what it could be. Using her sixth sense to gauge where the disturbance was located.

Astrid picked up the pace, going into a full out run. She rounded a corner then skidded to a sudden stop when she laid eyes on the ominous building before her. _This_ was what she was looking for.

An old newspaper factory loomed menacingly from across the road. Astrid could see what looked to be a fire inside the building, and shadowy figures milling about. Her eyes scanned the area. No other signs of life could be found. If Astrid's memory was correct, this factory had shut down a few years back. For all intents and purposes this place should be abandoned.

As Astrid watched from the shadows the alarming sensation increased. The blood congealed in her veins and she tasted bile again. She hurriedly crossed the road.

Pressing her back to the building, Astrid inched along with bated breath. When she reached a window she stood on tiptoe, angled her head back, and peered through. Even with all the grime that had caked on over the years Astrid was still able to see a huge bonfire dominating the center of the room. A dozen people were gathered in there, reminding her of the Ku Klux Klan with the black robes they were all wearing. Unless Astrid was mistaken, she was pretty sure that these people were preparing for a ceremony of sorts.

Astrid's neck cramped from the awkward position she held it in. She slowly lowered herself back down. Shaking off tingles of alarm Astrid crept further along the building. At long last she found a back door and silently slipped inside.

The light from the bonfire illumined the majority of the room, save for the farthest reaches. The flames cast flickering shadows on the firelit walls. Astrid crouched down, safe for the moment due to the pool of shadow she was in. It was just dim enough back there for her to remain a hidden observer.

Astrid watched with slitted eyes as the figures shuffled about the bonfire. Whatever they were discussing only came as a dull murmur to her ears.

Without warning the vibrant chatter ceased. A hooded figure raised his hands in silent command. Wait a second... That made thirteen people. Astrid frowned. Where had _he_ come from? She was certain that he hadn't been there a minute ago.

The newcomer was dressed slightly different from those of his comrades. He was cowled in a black robe, and Astrid thought she could see a silver design on the back of his robe. He must be the cult leader.

_This is getting weirder and weirder, _Astrid thought with a worried glance around the room. If things got bad she'd have to make a quick escape. There were too many people in here for her to take on alone.

The cult members gathered themselves in a circle around the fire, holding their arms outstretched so they touched fingertip to fingertip. It was all very precise and coordinated. Astrid looked on, completely mesmerized by the scene unfolding before her. She vaguely noted that the leader did not join in the circle; rather he stood just outside of it.

All was still save for the crackling of the flames. Then the leader began speaking in a harsh unfamilar language. At the sound of his voice the rest of the cult lifted up their voices in a dark chant. Astrid remained transfixed. She felt her mind going numb. All she could do was watch the vibrant flames and listen to the harsh cadence of the leader's soliloquy.

The chanting undulated and grew louder. It surged over her like the waves of the ocean. Just a dull roar, moving fast and then slow. The fire rose up, dangerously high, and a face flickered in the flames. The chanting became even more impassioned.

Astrid felt the tide of panic was over her. _Run run run! _Her thoughts screamed at her. She tried to run, desperately wanted to, but it was like her body was glued in place. She. Could. Not. Move. A silent scream bubbled up in her throat.

There was a sudden burst of blinding light and the spell on her was broken. Astrid was knocked back by the force of the shockwave. The chants turned to enraged screams as a deluge of water appeared out of nowhere and completely consumed the bonfire. Thick black smoke billowed out and filled the room. Astrid doubled over coughing when she inhaled the toxins. Her eyes watered and stung. She stumbled back to the door and flung it open to allow the smoke to filter out.

"Get him!" someone shrieked angrily. "The sorcerer must not get away!"

Astrid wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. Her head was hurting and she felt off balance. Probably a combination of the smoke and a lack of sleep. Probably.

Glancing back inside the now dimmed room, Astrid considered just walking away. The sounds of a fight reached her ears, shouts and curses and a couple things she wasn't even sure of. Yep. She'd had her fill of weirdness for the evening, thank you very much. She was ready to call it a night. This was all way over her head anyways. Astrid was just a vigilante. She fought the _normal _bad guys. Not supervillains, not aliens, and certainly not cults. She wasn't cut out for this kind of crap.

Astrid began walking away, but a niggling thought stopped her in her tracks. She couldn't help but wonder who _he _was. The mysterious third party in this operation. She knew it was a man because she'd seen a glimpse of him just before the fire was put out.

Something beckoned her back inside. Whether it was mere curiosity or _something else_ Astrid couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it was drawing her in like a fish in a net. Hefting her stun gun she turned and ran back into the building.

Astrid was assaulted upon entrance. A fireball leaped through the air and flew just past her head. Lightning streaked across the room. Everywhere she looked were scenes of chaos and mass confusion. Hooded figures darted about every which way.

"What the hell?" Astrid hissed. She ducked as another random fireball shot by.

Towards the center of the room, where the bonfire was reduced to a steaming pile of ashes, a lone man stood surrounded by three of the cowled people. The cult members each held a fireball within their hands. They advanced menacingly towards the man in the center.

Astrid was suddenly gripped with this _need_ to help him. She had to assist somehow. Thinking quickly, Astrid brought her gun up and aimed at one of the men. Just as she placed her finger on the trigger the man in the middle spread out his hands and created a luminescent force field around him. Astrid's mouth dropped open in shock. How was that possible? This guy looked like he'd stepped straight out of a sci-fi film.

_Nevermind that. Stay focused girl,_ Astrid told herself silently.

She pulled the trigger.

The stun made a direct hit to the back of the third hooded figure. He staggered from the impact, then crashed to the floor. The other two cult members gaped in shock at their fallen comrade.

"May I suggest looking behind you?" a voice said pleasantly.

The shorter cowled figure glanced over his shoulder. Even from this distance Astrid could see the whites of the man's eyes. She had to laugh.

"We have him surrounded. There's nothing he can do now," the taller one hissed. He grabbed his comrade's arm and shook him roughly. "Don't let him fool you. It's just another one of the magician's tricks."

Shorty looked over his shoulder one more time. Astrid smirked devilishly and gave a little wave. The short guy visibly paled. He glanced once more at his fellow, whom Astrid now saw wore the silver embossed robe. The leader of the cult.

"No way man! This is some crazy shit!" the shorter figure said in a terrified voice. He started backing away. "I'm gettin' the hell outta here!"

Then quite abruptly the short man disappeared. Just like that. There was no noise or puff of smoke. He simply vanished.

Astrid forced herself to tear her eyes away from the empty space where the cowled figure used to be.

"I am impressed." The man in the forcefield was saying. Sarcasm lay thick in his words. "Your followers amaze me with their sheer bravery and ferocity."

The leader stiffened. His pale hands gripped the edges of his cloak tightly.

"An unfortunate mishap," the cult leader said in tones of ice. "However, it is necessary that they be easily cowed." He clenched a fist. "That way I can rule them with an iron fist."

The silence stretched between them. Astrid got the feeling that the one in the forcefield was purposely taking his time, considering all possible factors. Herself included, she realised with a jolt.

"What will you do now, sorcerer?" The lone cult member asked somewhat impatiently. Apparently he too was getting tired of waiting.

"This." Abruptly the forcefield disappeared and the man swung a right hook into the cult member's face.

The two men grappled for a minute until the cowled figure broke free. He swung a punch to the other man's gut. The dark-haired man doubled over in pain.

Stepping back with a flourish of his black cloak, the cult leader scornfully addressed the individual in front of him.

_"This isn't over Strange,"_ he hissed. "Mark my words. This _isn't_ over."

Hefting the body of his fallen comrade, the man muttered a word and was gone.

Astrid glanced around the room. It appeared that the place was now empty save for her and the other man. She approached cautiously. He was still doubled over, one hand on his knee and the other pressed to his abdomen.

"Are you okay?" Astrid asked, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

The man didn't answer. He just shook his head and straightened, his hand still at his abdomen. Up close she could see his angled features, the dark hair falling into his eyes, grey eyes... Astrid's heart beat double time. She had the strangest feeling that she'd seen this man before.

Then she noticed the blood. Blood was seeping through his shirt, forming a crimson rose. The hilt of a knife stuck out from his stomach.

"I don't think you should-" Astrid said as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of the blade. Taking care he gently slid out the bloodstained dagger.

"Do that." She finished lamely.

The man studied the blade, brows lowered in scrutiny. Then the knife disintegrated into dust. He tossed the useless hilt away.

"A Blighted Dagger," he muttered in disgust.

That didn't sound good.

"Maybe we should get you to a hospital..." Astrid suggested. She didn't really think he'd go for it but it was worth a shot. The dude didn't look so well. His skin was a shade too pale and beads of perspiration were forming on his forehead.

"No." The man said flatly. He shook his head, then grimaced in pain.

"You sure? Just a consideration cuz you look like you're about to pass out on me." Astrid crossed her arms and gave him a pointed look. She wasn't sure if he could see it from behind the mask she wore.

Without answering the man turned away from her. Astrid couldn't let him get away that easy. Not until she had some answers.

"Wait!" Astrid caught him by the arm. "Are you going to be alright? There were some things I wanted to ask you... You really don't look so good." His grey eyes locked onto hers. He waited patiently for her to finish. "Who _are _you? And what the hell just happened?" Astrid sighed and ran a hand over her head, realising too late that she still had a mask on."What the freak is going on?" she finished with a hint of hysteria in her voice.

"There is a cure for the poison at my lodgings. The sooner I get to it, the better." the man said crisply. Once again he turned his back on her.

Astrid growled in frustration. "So that's it? Hello?" She felt like she was talking to a brick wall.

"My advice to you is to forget this night. Forget everything that happened. That is all you need to know." With those final words the man, too, disappeared.

"The hell I'll forget." Astrid muttered.


	4. Only Just A Dream

**A/N:**

**BIG thank-you to all my readers and followers! Without you there probably wouldn't be a story in the first place. Also, each chapter name is inspired by a song. The theme of the chapter thus originates from those songs :) feel free to look each of them up!**

* * *

_"Don't wake me, cuz I don't wanna leave this dream..." -_Skillet

Astrid didn't think she'd sleep a wink once she finally crawled into bed. Too much had gone on and her mind needed to process it all. However, as soon as her head touched the pillow she slipped into unconsciousness. Astrid slept fitfully, lost in dreams of masked figures grinning evilly, their horrid mouths open wide to devour her. Then at the last moment, a cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere and fought the demons off.

Then she dreamt of Miranda.

Astrid awoke in a paradise land. Everywhere were green and growing things. Sunlight slanted in through the leaves of the emerald trees. Astrid stood up, gaping in awe at the untamed beauty all around her.

Down the hill her best friend lay sprawled in a vast meadow. Below, wildflowers dotted the carpet of green grass. Astrid launched herself down the hill. She couldn't get to Miranda fast enough. When she reached her she threw herself in the grass next to her and wrapped her arms around Miranda in a tight embrace. The two girls laughed and talked excitedly. It was like Miranda had never been gone.

* * *

"I missed you." Astrid's eyes flew open. She stared into the darkness, confused. Momentarily she had difficulty remembering where she was. Disappointment hit her hard once she realised that Miranda had only been a dream.

"It had seemed so real though!" Astrid thought desperately. _For a minute there, I really thought you were back._

Astrid shook off the saddening emotion. It threatened to overwhelm her, a dark abyss just waiting to swallow her whole.

Tears wouldn't change anything.

* * *

_The Daily Bugle. 11:43 am._

"Blake! Where's that order I sent in?! I needed those photos over an hour ago!"

Astrid rubbed her eyes wearily. Her head was pounding and she was in no mood to face Jameson today. Her boss stormed right up to her desk, his nostrils flaring dangerously.

Astrid glanced up from her computer. "Can I help you?" she asked in an overly sweet voice.

"Well?! Where are they? I'm not paying you to nap!" Jameson barked.

Astrid slowly breathed in and out. She silently prayed that she wouldn't say anything she'd regret. Which she was sorely tempted to do just now.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry sir. The computer's running a bit slow today.." she gestured at the screen. "I'm working as fast as I can but if you want the job done right then you'll have to give it time-"

"There's a problem with the computer? Well, fix it!" Jameson glared at her pointedly. He made it sound like that was the easiest thing in the world to do.

"It's not that simple, sir," Astrid responded calmly.

"Not that simple! Use your eyes girl! This place is filled with computers, all at your disposal. Just use one of them and get the damn job done!"

Astrid mentally counted to ten before replying. "Very observant and thoughtful of you sir. However, _my computer _is the only one with the tech I need. Otherwise, I can't edit the photos."

Miraculously, Jameson got quiet. For about two seconds. He looked taken aback.

"Uff," he growled under his breath. "Well then you need to-"

"Sir, what I need is a new computer. This piece of junk is no longer sufficient for what I need done. It's overused and outdated." Astrid informed him.

Jameson was seriously affronted at this. "Do I look like I'm made of money? Ha! Don't make me laugh." He narrowed his gaze at her. "Either you fix it or get out."

"No Jameson." Astrid spoke lowly, a dangerous tone to her voice. "You need me here. You just don't realise it yet. The fault isn't mine. You're just too cheap to fix the damn computer yourself!" She was shouting now.

Abruptly the room went quiet. All Astrid could hear were the wild pounding of her heart and her fast shallow breathing. She was keenly aware of all the people watching her.

"Oh I'm so sorry Mr. Jameson!" Betty Brant came running up, presumably for damage control. "I should have told you about the computer days ago. Things have been hectic lately and I completely forgot."

Betty Brant was a beautiful, businesslike woman with luscious brown hair cut in a bob. Astrid was grateful for Betty's presence. The sweet woman was always there to lend a hand to anyone in need. She was also a good person to talk to.

Jameson hesitated a moment, then asked, "So you already knew about this? Why hasn't the equipment been replaced then?"

"I sent in an order this morning," Betty said demurely. "The new computer should be here sometime this week, Friday at the latest."

"Well problem solved then," their boss replied gruffly. He glanced between the two women one last time before stalking off. "Now get back to work!" he barked over his shoulder.

Astrid heaved a sigh of relief once he was gone. She couldn't _believe_ what she'd just done. Shouting at her boss was a completely stupid thing to do, and Astrid knew that. She was lucky she hadn't been fired on the spot. This job was her only lifeline, the only thing that kept her rooted in New York. Without it she would take to the wind and tumble about like a dry weed, never settling in one place for long.

"Honey?" Betty touched her lightly on the arm. "Are you okay?" she asked softly, her dark brows knitted in worry.

Astrid pressed her palms to her lids. The light pressure helped ease the pain inside her skull somewhat. "Yeah. Head just hurts.." Astrid mumbled. A lot of things hurt, actually.

Astrid sat up and gave Betty a grateful smile. "Thanks for saving me back there," she said softly.

"Oh it was no problem honey," Betty gave her hand a squeeze. "I could tell you needed the help."

Astrid barked a laugh that held no humor to it. "You could say that again."

Betty's mouth turned down in sympathy. She pulled up a chair and sat down across from Astrid. The woman mulled over her words before speaking.

"Astrid...are you sleeping okay?" Concern was evident in her voice. "Each day you look just a little bit worse.. I'm worried about you Astrid. Whatever's going on you can talk to me about it." Betty's brown eyes implored her.

Astrid sighed and set her hands in her lap. "No Betty. I-" she shook her head. "I haven't been sleeping very well but that's all there is." _That_ was an understatement and Astrid knew it. She felt a brief stab of guilt for having lied to the woman, but there was nothing she could do about it. It would only make things worse if Betty knew the truth.

The brunette pursed her lips, considering. Betty lowered her voice a few decibels to allow for more privacy.

"Is this about Miranda?" Betty's eyes searched the amber of Astrid's own. "Astrid, I know you miss her... but honey it's been six years..."

The mere mention of Miranda's name struck home. Astrid felt something hard crack inside of her. All the depth of emotion she had stored away now crashed and flooded over the dam of her heart.

"No!" Astrid was shaking her head vehemently, her eyes shut tight against the tears that threatened to overcome her. Her lips trembled. "No! Don't talk about her! You don't know her Betty, you never did!"

Astrid buried her face in her hands, tears now streaming from her eyes. Her shoulders racked from the sobs wrenching her body. Betty wrapped an arm around Astrid's shoulder and helped her up. She guided the tearful woman out of the room and down the stairs to the front entry.

"Shh, shh," she whispered comfortingly.

Astrid hiccupped and continued speaking, the words coming out in a tangled rush. "I can't stop thinking about her Betty! I miss her so much..." Astrid hugged herself tight. "Oh God I miss her! It should have been me," she whispered. A tear slipped down her cheek and hung on the edge of her lip. "_It should have been me!"_ she cried desperately. Astrid tasted salt on her tongue. Bitter and sweet, like her aching heart.

Betty took her firmly by the shoulders. "Don't say that Astrid. Don't you _dare_ say that. What happened is over and done with. There's nothing you could have done Astrid," she said softly. "You've got to stop blaming yourself for this." Betty squeezed her shoulders tightly, then released her.

Astrid's nose was congested now, so she had to breathe through her mouth. Her face was hot from all the crying. She hurt so much, both inside and out.

"It's been six years Astrid," Betty said more calmly. "It's time to move _on._ I'm telling you this as your friend-"

"No one will ever replace Miranda," Astrid said quickly, feeling defensive. "It was my fault that she died and I will _never_ forgive myself. I can't move on. I don't deserve a life. Miranda deserved it," she finished quietly.

Astrid couldn't go back to work now. Not today, not after what had just happened.

"I'm sorry," Astrid said hurriedly. "I have to go." She turned and walked down the hall. She paused in the doorway.

"Thank you, Betty. You've been a great friend..."

"Don't worry, I'll cover for you," the brunette cut in gently. "You'll still have a job when you get back tomorrow." Betty said with a small smile. "You should go home and get some rest honey."

Not having a reply for that, Astrid nodded once and then stepped outside. The blaring noise of New York assaulted her senses. Astrid barely noticed it.

"You just don't understand Betty." she whispered, her eyes searching the skyline, desperate for answers. Her life would never be the same without Miranda at her side.

_I'm thinking 'bout her, I'm thinkin 'bout me  
Thinkin about us, who we gonna be  
Then I opened my eyes... and it was only just a dream..._


	5. Clarity

**A/N: This one's a short chapter but there's loads of things coming in the next ones. Thank you all so much for reading! Please continue to read and review :)**

* * *

_"If our love's insanity why are you my **clarity**?" -Zedd/Foxes _

Astrid shoved open the door to her apartment. She dropped her stuff in the entryway then leaned back against the door frame. The door shut with a low click. Astrid closed her eyes tight, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"It's all so wrong Miranda," she whispered.

The silence seemed to stretch before her, emphasizing her complete and utter loneliness. White-hot anger swiftly replaced her grief. Astrid's fists clenched up and she screamed out her rage. "This wasn't supposed to happen! You weren't supposed to die!" Her voice broke on the last syllable as she pounded a fist into the wall.

Panting heavily to catch her breath, Astrid slid to the floor and pulled her knees up to her chest. She rested her head on the knobs of her knees.

"Why did you leave me Miranda?" she breathed into the fabric of her skirt. _'__I miss you,' _her heart whispered.

Astrid searched her memories for a touch, a laugh, a smile. Anything that Miranda had left behind. What Astrid found was completely unexpected. Grey eyes, ageless eyes, glowered at her from a sternly handsome face. Astrid gave a start. It was _him_!

"Who _are_ you?" Astrid asked wonderingly.

The memory of last night's mysterious stranger was enough to get her mind off of Miranda. It hurt too much to think about her. The change of thought gave her a purpose, a sense of direction.

Astrid stood and assessed the room, keeping the mysterious stranger at the back of her mind.

"My gosh, what a mess," she sighed loudly. When was the last time she'd cleaned this place? Done the laundry? Peeking into the clothes basket Astrid decided that she'd rather _not_ know the answer to that. Quickly changing into some jeans and an Avengers Tee, Astrid rolled up her sleeves and set to work. The task helped her think better. Besides, with this much time on her hands Astrid had to do something!

As Astrid began cleaning up her apartment she gave some serious thought to the events of the previous night. Astrid was trying to remember every detail and every word that was spoken. Any and all clues would be helpful in solving this mystery.

Astrid tossed a load of laundry in the washing machine, then started sweeping up the kitchen floor. She frowned thoughtfully. Astrid clearly remembered everything up to the point where the cult started their chant. Then her memory got fuzzy, like when cable TV messed up and all you could see was white static on screen. It was causing her head to start aching. After that the only thing she could remember was the intriguing dark-haired man whom she had spoken to.

Astrid mentally pressed rewind on her memories, but once again the recollections were hazy at best. Sighing in defeat, Astrid turned her thoughts back on the newcomer. _'I really need a name for this guy,'_ she thought at random. So far he was Astrid's only source of clarity on the matter. She focused on recalling every feature and aspect that she had remembered about him.

It was strange how she hadn't noticed his odd choice of clothing before. Well, _a_ _lot _had been going on at the time. So maybe it wasn't that strange after all. The man wore a blue shirt with an odd design on its front, sported a yellow sash about his waist, had black pants, and medieval-looking leather boots. The most striking feature about his outfit was the immense red and gold cloak he'd worn draped across his shoulders, clasped together by an oval amulet. The guy would certainly stand out in a crowd, dressed like that.

_'Or would he...?'_ The thought perturbed her somewhat. Due to the bizarre things she'd witnessed in the past 24 hours, Astrid was certain that this mysterious stranger of hers would most likely have a way to cloak himself from unwelcome eyes. Disturbing idea that was.

Other than the odd choice of clothing, the guy appeared pretty normal. Good-looking even. He had dark, near shoulder-length hair, angled features, and striking grey eyes. Eyes that had seen things no man should ever have to see. Eyes that spoke of age beyond his years. Wisdom, and something else she wasn't quite sure of, were evident in that steely gaze. She felt herself getting lost in the memory.

"Moving on..." Astrid growled to herself, shaking her head to clear it.

Of course there was the issue of the other things she'd witnessed. Like, the guy forming a forcefield out of thin air. A forcefield! Using only his hands! How had he done it? Astrid didn't care if it was possible or even logical, she wanted to know _how._ Following that train of thought she came back to the whole freakish ceremony. Of which she could hardly remember a thing. What the hell was going on?

Astrid recalled again the mysterious stranger. She needed to find him. He was the key to unlocking this infuriating mystery.

If the man was still alive, Astrid would find him.

* * *

**A/N: I swear, no puns intended guys. Lol.**


	6. Where Are You?

**A/N: JotunChick11, thank you so much for reading and reviewing.  
****Gunslinger21, thank you for all your support and for those interesting, um, ideas you had. Lol.  
****ANimATion ImAgInAtIoN, thank you for reading this :) it means so much to me that you like it.**

**Please continue reading and reviewing!**

* * *

_"Maybe the reason all the doors are closed is so you could open one that leads you to the perfect road,"- Katy Perry_

The next day Astrid was feeling much better. When she got to work she was surprised and secretly delighted to find a new and upgraded computer on her desk. Resting on the keyboard was a note written in delicate curved script.

_Chin up girl! Got this new tech in ASAP. Hope you like it- B. Brant_

The note made her smile.

* * *

The day was going by much faster than anticipated. Astrid was deeply enjoying the new computer, perhaps too much so. The photos would be coming out ten times better than the old ones.

"Thank you Betty," Astrid whispered in gratitude.

Deepening the shading on the photo, she admired the clear detail, how the definition stood out. Two bank robbers were being swung midair by Spiderman, their bodies soon to collide with a brick wall. The masked marauder's biceps were coiled taut as he took out his foes. One could just see the hint of life behind the eyes of his red and blue face mask. Astrid was captured by how animated the photo looked. Just full of life and action. It was like she could just reach out and touch Spiderman's shoulder. A hesitant voice brought her out of the enchanting illusion.

"Astrid?" Peter was at her desk, glancing at her from over the top of the computer. She wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, as absorbed as she'd been in her work. That familiar odd feeling swept over her once again as she faced her friend.

"Hi again," she smiled.

Peter smiled back, looking relieved.

"Is something wrong?" Astrid asked, her brows pinching in concern.

"Well, it's about yesterday." His blue eyes searched hers. "You looked pretty upset and I just wanted to see if you were okay." He sighed and nervously scuffed his shoe against the floor.

"Oh..." Astrid leaned back in her seat, eyes searching the ceiling. She felt like she could be honest with Peter. "I'm fine now, I guess I just had an emotional overload yesterday. I've told you about Miranda, right?"

"I've heard a little bit, but you've never told me the full story. I'd like to hear it sometime."

"Well," Astrid took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "It's just, I miss her. A lot. Part of me I guess still can't accept that she's gone. Some days I can get by alright, but then other days it's just completely overwhelming. Like a piece of me is missing and I know I'll never get it back."

Peter nodded thoughtfully. "I know just how you feel," he said softly. "There are still some days when I can't believe Harry's gone." Sadness flickered in his gaze as he said this. Sadness, and maybe a little guilt too.

Astrid had completely forgotten about Peter's best friend, Harry Osborn, who had been killed almost three years ago. She felt terrible for having forgotten. Yet in a way it also comforted her to know that she wasn't so alone with her pain.

"Hey, Astrid, I've been talking to Mary Jane about maybe going out for lunch together sometime. Just the three of us. Maybe then you could tell me about what happened with Miranda?"

Astrid was surprised by the abrupt request. She thought quickly.

"Well, I'm kind of swamped for the week..."

"Any time is fine with us. Just let me know, okay? We want to keep in touch with you," Peter gave her a reassuring smile.

"Sure, that'd be great," Astrid nodded. Peter made his farewell and left Astrid to her thoughts.

* * *

When Astrid was not working she devoted all her time to finding _that_ man. As soon as evening turned into the deeper shadows of night the woman would don her Nightwatcher garb and go out to search the city. She started by tracking down her old mentors.

* * *

Astrid approached the alley cautiously, taking care not to alarm the man at work just within its depths.

Daredevil brought his knee up into the other man's gut. Groaning in pain, the sleazy-looking smuggler collapsed to the concrete. The 'devil kicked him one last time just to make sure he was down. He then cocked his head in Astrid's direction.

"You wanna come out where I can see you?" he called challengingly.

The pun wasn't lost on Astrid. It'd been quite by accident that she'd learned of Daredevil's unfortunate handicap. She walked further into the alley, then stopped just in front of him.

"Well, I'm about 3 inches away from you now. That good enough?" she asked drily.

A smirk played at the other man's lips. "Ah, the infamous Nightwatcher. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. What brings you to Hell's Kitchen?"

Astrid got straight to the point, feeling somewhat pressed for time. "I'm looking for someone. I ran into this guy a few nights ago and I'm trying to get, ah, better acquainted."

Daredevil cocked his head, light from the street lamps reflecting off his deep red mask. "Got a name for me?" he asked, idly swinging his cane back and forth.

Astrid shook her head. "No, not yet. Unfortunately. But, maybe you've met him before? I think..." she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I think he can do, well, _magic_." It just sounded worse saying it aloud. Astrid had racked her brains for any other ideas, but none came to mind except the most obvious and illogical of them all. "I saw him do things that... that I have no other way of explaining it. What he did was, IS, impossible."

A muscle twitched in the man's cheek. The faint moonlight defined the darkness of a 5 o'clock shadow dotting his jawline. Intense silence stretched between them.

"Magic?" he finally said. "I dunno, that's not a lot to go off of. You'll have to give a little more info if you want to find whoever-it-is."

Astrid sighed in frustration. He was right, of course. There was only one way Astrid could help him understand. She told him the whole story, starting with how she found the cult, to the odd barely remembered ceremony, and of the stranger's disappearing act in the end. Daredevil listened patiently, occasionally asking questions or making dry comments. It was hard to tell what he was _really_ thinking though. Anything could be going on behind that crimson mask of his.

"And, I just have this feeling that he's connected to me in some way," she said quietly. "I could swear I've seen him before somewhere but my mind just draws up blank."

Her friend pondered her words for a moment, then shook his head. "It sounds beyond frustrating. I'm sorry. I've never heard of this guy, let alone met him. I wish I could help."

Disappointment filled her chest. She stood there awkwardly, then said, "Thanks anyways."

Then she walked past him down the alley and turned the corner.

"Good luck with your search!" She heard Daredevil call just before she was out of earshot.

"Thanks Matt," she murmured. "I'm going to need it."

* * *

Astrid would have liked to question the Punisher about her mysterious stranger, but she knew from experience that there was no finding Frank Castle unless Frank Castle wanted to be found.

Nevertheless, as Astrid made her rounds of the city she kept up a constant vigil for her black-clad friend. Or the ever mysterious stranger that she so tirelessly searched for.

As time passed her quest became an obsession. Most nights she couldn't sleep unless she'd done a sweep of the city. She absolutely _had_ to find that man. Or figure out what was going on with that freakish cult. One or the other would do just fine. Astrid knew that it worked both ways. If she found the cult she'd find the man, and vice-versa. She searched the internet, the library, watched old documentaries, desperately exhausting all her available resources. She looked up cults, ceremonies, and magic. She inquired about the science behind magic. If it was really possible for people to spontaneously disappear or not. Apparently it wasn't. There were many reports of magicians pulling off that sort of trick, but it was always with sleight-of-hand or the art of illusion. This guy had just vanished into thin air. There had been no illusion that she could see. Then there was the possibility that he was a ghost, since ghosts apparently could appear and disappear at random. But Astrid could refute that theory right off the bat. She'd seen him _bleed_, she'd touched his arm and knew that he was made of flesh and blood just like herself.

The internet offered no clear results about cults or ceremonies either. Most of it sounded really bad, like human sacrifices and demonic interactions. She tried narrowing her search to that of cults in New York, but that didn't help much. This obsession of hers was beginning to take its toll on her mind. She found herself unable to think of anything else. Astrid barely slept anymore. When she did she had recurring dreams of the ceremony. There had to be an end to this madness.


	7. Lost Cause

**(There are some disturbing descriptions in this chapter. If you are uncomfortable with violence then skip to the end please)**

* * *

_"Wait, no one said what's lost can not be found-" Imagine Dragons_

Finally, Astrid got low enough. She took her problems to the criminals that lurked in the dark alleys and filthy subways of New York's underground. Astrid asked around about cults, disturbances of the mystical kind, and about her elusive stranger. Most of the people she talked to either laughed her off or had no answer for her at all. Since those were getting her nowhere she chose instead to devote her time to finding the magician, or whatever he was. It wasn't worth it in Astrid's mind to tell the whole story over and over again, especially to some of the more seedy people that she spoke to. Instead she made a detailed sketch of the man in the red cloak then showed it around. The encounters were always the same more or less.

"I'm looking for a man who looks like this. Have you seen him or someone like him?" she'd ask.

"Nope, haven't seen him."

Or...

"Are you on something? Ha! Maybe try the Renaissance Fair!" Then the person would laugh and walk away.

It was downright depressing.

* * *

"Please," Astrid said wearily, her voice hoarse from all its ill use. "I've tried everywhere else. If there's any information you could give, then please give it. Is there anything at all?"

The tall broad-shouldered man standing across from her took a long drag on his cigarette. He leaned back idly against the wall.

"Wish I could help girly, but I'm afraid I can't." Cayman chuckled darkly and crossed his arms over his broad chest. A dangerous spark lit in his black eyes. "I know quite a few people who would pay a pretty price for your head."

Astrid sighed and crumpled up the black and white sketch she held. She almost didn't care what Cayman was saying. This was it. This was her last hope. And now it was just as crushed and broken as her beautiful sketch. She'd been searching for her mystery man for almost a month now, with no results. There'd been absolutely no leads on this guy. She might as well stop trying.

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in," a gruff voice said from behind. Out of the shadows came a tall dark figure, a white skull emblazoned on his shirt front. The Punisher leveled a pistol at Cayman's head.

"Been lookin' a long time for you Cayman," Frank growled, cocking the pistol. "Finally crawled out of the maggotty cesspool you call a _job_." Frank's chiseled features twisted into a sneer.

Cayman stiffened. He spat out his cigarette and fumbled in his pockets for a weapon. Astrid hurriedly clamped a restraining hand on Frank's forearm.

"Frank! Wait, you can't kill him-"

"Stay out of this Astrid," he muttered, shrugging her off. He fired once, then a second time for good measure. Scarlet blood sprayed against the concrete, standing out bright and vivid on the brown and grey of their surroundings. It pooled around the victim's body.

"See you in hell Cayman." Frank tucked his gun into its holster, then turned on Astrid. "How many times do I have to tell you not to interfere?!" he yelled, beyond pissed off at this point.

"Dammit Frank! That's not always the solution!" she gestured at the dead body before them. "You just don't-!" Astrid cut herself off, choosing instead to make an exasperated noise. "You just don't understand!" she screamed.

Astrid threw the crumpled up sketch to the ground, where it rolled into the pool of crimson blood. She stormed away. Astrid wrapped her leather jacket tighter about her body to guard against the winter chill, but it didn't help much.

"Astrid wait!" Hard footsteps slapped against the concrete. Frank stepped in front of her and barred her way.

"What Frank?!" she snapped. Setting her jaw, she kept her gaze fixed firmly at a point just to the right.

"We've been through this before," the Punisher began slowly. "What I do, I do for a reason. And it's always a damn good reason too."

Astrid didn't even bother responding. She kept seeing the animalistic fear that flashed in Cayman's eyes just as his head imploded. She could still smell the man's heavy cigarette smoke mingling with the cloying scent of blood and gunpowder. The scent of murder.

"You didn't have to kill him," she said quietly.

Frank shoved his hands in his pockets. He cocked his head at her and looked as though she'd sprouted a second head or something.

"You still don't understand," he muttered. "You wanna do my job? Huh? You think you can handle it? While you're goin' around playing the hero," he sneered, "I'm the one out there fighting the real bad guys." He gave her a hard look. "Do you know what Cayman was involved in? Do you have any idea? Because, trust me, he deserved to die.

Astrid shook her head, unable to speak for the fierceness in the other man's eyes.

Frank nodded once, his icy gaze never wavering from hers. "I didn't think so. Well, let this ease your conscience a bit. Cayman was in the business of kidnapping young women and children and selling them across the borders. That's human trafficking Astrid. By killing this man I've started a chain of events that will ultimately lead to the freedom of those women and children that have been enslaved already." His voice cut like a knife's edge. "Now that I've cut off the head, I'm gonna work my way down until every one of those sick bastards sees justice."

"Who are we to judge over life and death? You and I are just as guilty of wrong as that man back there," Astrid shot back. "Are you going to kill me, Frank? Do I deserve death too?"

Frank sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. "Astrid you know that that's completely different. What we do is for justice, not for selfish gain."

Silence. Heavy, tomb-like silence. A soft breeze stirred the autumn leaves about their feet. Astrid shook her head, regretting that she'd ever said anything. There was no point in trying with him.

"Nevermind. It's too late to argue the point anyways," she bit her tongue to hold back more biting words.

"What were you doing talking to that piece of scum anyways?" Frank jerked his head back in the direction of the alleyway.

"I needed information," Astrid said gruffly, nervously adjusting her jacket and avoiding eye contact.

"Information? Exactly what_ kind_ of information?" Frank asked suspiciously.

Astrid sighed and spilled all. "Look, there's this guy with black hair, grey eyes, he's kinda tall, has a mustache I think.. He wears a blue shirt with an odd symbol on it, and a red cloak with a gold border. Sound familiar at all?" She said in a desperate rush. Astrid knew she must sound like she belonged in the loony bin.

"Um.. I'm afraid I haven't Astrid. " Frank peered at her closely. "I don't mean to question your judgment, but are you _sure_ this guy is real? He doesn't sound like anyone I've ever met."

Astrid threw her hands up in the air. "That's great, that's just great! I must have imagined the whole damn ceremony then!"

"Whoa whoa, slow down there," Frank made calming motions with his hands. "Let's start over from the beginning, okay? What's this about a ceremony?"

Astrid knew the story by heart, she'd recalled it so many times. What could it hurt to tell just one more time?

"That sounds like some crazy shit," Frank said when she was finished. "I haven't been in town for awhile, so I haven't seen or heard of anything _that_ unusual. But now that I'm here I'll keep my eyes peeled for any cults _and_ your imaginary boyfriend."

"Thanks." Astrid said drily. Inwardly she was collapsing. Once again her efforts were thwarted. Every time she found a bit of hope it only got dashed again. "Bye Frank." Her shoulders slumping she walked past him and headed across the road.

"Astrid," he called softly. "There is one person you could talk to. He might be able to help."

She stopped in the middle of the street to turn and look back at him.

"Talk to Spiderman. He's dealt with more crazy shit than you and me combined."

The idea was so bizarre it made Astrid laugh. "Sorry Frank. Thanks, but no thanks. I'm done with this wild goose chase. I've exhausted myself over it and it's just not going anywhere. So I'm giving it up. Bye."

No more chasing after cults or charming strangers who pulled disappearing acts. That man was gone now, nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Just like her dreams. Maybe that's all he had ever been. A dream.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all liked the Punisher intro :) please leave reviews!**


	8. One Day Too Late

**A/N: I know, Astrid's life has gotten pretty depressing :( but it's going to get better I promise. Thank you all so much for reading and leaving all those wonderful reviews! Special thanks goes to...**

**JotunChick11, for tirelessly (or maybe not so tirelessly) listening to me talk and talk and bemoan my lack of story progress, and for helping me jumpstart my brain when I desperately needed it ;)**

**Gunslinger21, for helping me laugh even when I want to cry, and for (yes you too!) listening to me go on and on about my story. **

**my friend Joe, for reading my story and enjoying it :) and for being patient with me even when I'm a superdork and am trying to bring you over to the dork side... **

**ANimATion ImAgInAtioN, thanks for giving my story a chance :) it means so much to me that you like it.**

**Also, I will be tying in elements from the sorcerer's past into this story. Don't let the name of Sanders fool you! lol**

* * *

_"Tick Tock hear my life pass by, I can't erase and I can't rewind...  
Of all the things I regret the most I do... Wish I'd spent more time with you," -Skillet_

For a week Astrid didn't go out to sweep the streets. She didn't have the energy, or the passion for it, like she used to. She just wanted to live a normal, _ordinary_ life for a while. It was a relief to give up her vigilante work. God knows she needed the break. However, she could never truly relax due to the dreams that haunted her mind. Over and again Astrid would fall asleep only to find herself entrenched in a nightmare. She dreamt of Miranda's death, of her own surgery...and then the dreams would twist and change into that of the ceremony. Over time the two dreams melded and became one.

_The fire exploded behind her eyelids. Astrid screamed from the pain, from the memory... from the loss. It consumed and burned her much like the wicked flames that caressed her skin. "I'm dying," she called into the darkness. A man appeared from the shadows. He promised he was going to help her, but she had to run. She had to run and keep running, don't ever stop running... "It's alright," the man said in soothing tones. "I can take care of you. I'll help you." His grey eyes bored into hers. "I'll take care of you." he repeated._

Wait? Those words sounded so familiar. Weren't they from her other dream, her other nightmare where Miranda was endlessly murdered before her eyes? The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the surgeon from her past and the man she was now looking for were one and the same. Was it really so far-fetched? After all this time she had no true memory of the doctor from her past, except what she dreamt about. Maybe there _was_ a connection somewhere.

Astrid just wished she could forget. She wanted nothing more to do with cults, or ceremonies, or mysterious strangers. Her quest had been just another meaningless grasp at a lifeline. She was sinking in the mire and her only choice was to let go. It was a hopeless cause anyways.

* * *

"Hey Astrid, would you like to join MJ and me for lunch?" Peter asked just as Astrid got on her break. She felt a stab of guilt for having avoided him this past month.

"Sure," she said smiling. In truth she'd rather be left alone, but she liked Peter and didn't want to lose what meager friendship they had simply because she was distracted and depressed. Besides, Astrid knew she'd been quite a recluse of late, only showing up for work and then disappearing afterwards without so much as a goodbye. It was time to move _on_, and maybe going out with her friends would provide a pleasant distraction from the demons that plagued her thoughts.

"It _would_ be nice to go out," she said truthfully.

"Great! Let's go then, MJ's in the car. She'll be so glad to see you again," Pete said with that infectious grin of his.

Astrid grabbed her purse and followed Peter out of the building. Mary Jane Parker was positively overjoyed to see Astrid. She hugged her tight and went on about how much she'd missed her and how long it'd been since they'd last gotten together.

"We don't get to see you often enough!" Mary Jane said with a small pout. "We've missed you Astrid!" she said reprimandingly.

"Yeah, it's not quite enough to see you at work everyday.." Peter joked.

Astrid rolled her eyes at Peter's remark. She could tell that, underneath his smiling exterior, he was worried about her. About her silence, her absences, and the darkness that shadowed her eyes. This wasn't the Astrid he remembered.

"I've missed you too MJ," Astrid replied quietly. She felt better for having come. Astrid hadn't realised just how much she'd isolated herself, until now. It was good to be around _people_ again. _Normal _people. _Good_ people. Not... Not the other kind.

They decided to eat at a sandwich shop down the block. It wasn't far so Astrid wouldn't have to worry about not getting back to work on time.

"So tell us what you've been up to Astrid," MJ asked, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands, her elbows splaying out slightly. One of them bumped into Peter's arm, jostling his hold on his sandwich. He nudged her back, and after a short period of pokes and nudges between the couple they eventually settled into place.

"Well, um, I've been pretty busy I guess," Astrid replied vaguely. She shrugged and took a sip of her water. "I mean, other than work I've just kind of been brushing up on mythology."

"Mythology?" Peter looked up in interest.

"Wait, that's not the right word... Um, well more like magic and mysticism I guess..." Astrid mumbled into her sandwich.

Peter and Mary Jane shared a look.

"That's...Interesting..." MJ said slowly. "Is there something you're looking for in particular?"

Astrid shook her head, her amber eyes widening in innocence. "No. Not really. I was just interested in it all of a sudden." Mentally she began kicking herself in the head. She was being _so_ obvious. Surely Peter and MJ could see right through her lies. '_Oh yeah I'm real busy just doing nothing at all!'_ an inner voice mocked. Astrid took another bite of her sandwich before she made any more fumbles.

"Astrid?" Peter asked quietly. She tentatively looked up to meet his gaze. His voice was soft and gentle. "Can you tell us about Miranda?" Astrid felt like he was talking to a wounded animal. Which, if she thought about it, he was.

"Only if you want to," Mary Jane said, genuine care showing through her eyes.

"Yes," Astrid said softly, her gaze in the far distance, not even seeing people or buildings or cars anymore. She was looking _inside_ herself. "Yes. I want to." she whispered, absently twisting a napkin in her hands. "I want you guys to know. And... and I feel like I should talk about it..."

* * *

_Miranda and I were the best of friends growing up. Every day she'd either come over to my house or I'd go over to hers, which was easy since we were next-door neighbors. Miranda, well, you'd have liked her. She was the kind of girl that once you got to know her, you couldn't help but like her. Lots of people wanted to be her friend. But out of everyone she chose me... I still don't know why. She could always make me laugh, no matter how bleak my mood. She was a good listener. She loved me, and I should have done better by her. Miranda was the sunshine to my rain, the smile for every tear, the laugh for every sigh. We were the best of opposites. Even arguing we still somehow harmonized._

_I was a dreamer, always have been. Not a day went by that I didn't have my head in the clouds. Miranda couldn't help following me. When we got older we started putting more thought into our future. What do I want to do in life? What kind of person am I going to be? And, more importantly, **who** do I want to be? These were complicated questions for girls aged 15 and 16, questions that held no easy answers._

She paused, eyes misting over from the rush of memories.

_It started out as a feeling, which then grew into a hope, which then turned into a quiet thought... which then turned into a quiet word. We would go to college and complete a two-year course, then after that we wanted to move to New York City. This place was always our destination. Not even knowing what we were looking for or even what we wanted specifically, we always knew we would come here._

_Our parents weren't exactly "thrilled" with the idea. I guess they'd always had hopes of us settling down nearby, getting married, and raising a family. Maybe they were right. Maybe we should have stayed. Stop chasing after dreams, they told me. Get your head out of the clouds. **This** is your reality. I couldn't accept that. I wanted adventure, Miranda and I both wanted it, and I always knew that there was something waiting for us beyond the horizon._

_When I was 22 I made the final move with Miranda, where we at last got settled into New York like we'd always dreamed. My parents had argued with me a lot about my decision, and once I finally moved they saw it as an act of rebellion and cut off all contact with me. At the time it stung, it cut me deep, how they couldn't even comprehend that I had my own dreams and hopes. They just couldn't see that. Miranda's family disapproved too, but they weren't so drastic about it. __Mrs. Bailey, Mandy's mom, would phone us every week to check up on us. She was nice. The kind of person that when you needed a hug, she was always there for one._

_For awhile things were going well for us when Mandy and I moved to the city. I got hired at the Daily Bugle and she had a job at a bakery not far from our new home. I remember how she loved to cook. Baking was more than a hobby for her, it was an art. And she loved it._

She sighed, smiling softly as she spoke. It took a moment for her to catch her breath. She twisted the napkin in her lap until it was an unrecognizable lump.

_We had been living in New York for about six months, and even though it wasn't everything we'd hoped for, we were happy. This was the life we had chosen. It was just me and Miranda against the world._

_One day... One day I got off work early. Miranda was already home, getting dinner prepared. It was a nice evening and I remember thinking we should go out for a walk, maybe see a movie. We needed the break. Just to have that time together, to relax and have fun._

_Well, Mandy thought that was a great idea so after dinner we headed outside to find some adventure. It'd gotten cooler by this time, so Miranda suggested we take the car and go to the theatre. I said, "No Miranda, let's walk. It'll be fun." I could never have been more wrong in my entire life._

_We'd only walked a couple blocks down the road when we were cornered by three very large, very dangerous looking men. They demanded we give them all our money and valuables._

Here Astrid's eyes got a dead look to them. She spoke, her voice devoid of life or emotion.

_We had more dignity than that. Miranda cussed them out and attempted to brush past them, but one thug shoved her back. I remember the cold rush of adrenaline flooding through my veins, the blood pounding in my ears, and the harsh rasp of my voice as I screamed Miranda's name. Time seemed to be moving through syrup as the scene unfolded before my eyes. One of the men pulled out a gun and I kept thinking, "Not her, anyone but her, PLEASE not her!" I tried to stop them from killing her, I tried... I tried Mandy. But I failed you._

* * *

Peter and Mary Jane were silent for a time as they took it all in.

Then Peter asked, "What happened after that?"

Of course. In the tide of the story she'd completely forgotten about the surgery.

"Well," she sniffed and wiped her eyes with her hand. MJ handed her a new napkin, which Astrid took gratefully. "When I tried to defend Mandy, I was pushed to the ground, and then I think I was kicked in the head. I don't remember much after that. But I guess there was enough damage that I had to go into surgery for it." she sighed dismally. "And then I don't even remember who my friggin' doctor was. I just remember waking up in a hospital, with bandages wrapped around my head and IVs jabbed into my arms. A nurse told me I had to sign some papers, she asked if I had any relatives I could contact. I told her no. I asked about Miranda, where was Miranda, is she okay? The nurse didn't have an answer for me. I wanted to speak to the guy who operated on me, but apparently he was some bigot that didn't have time to get to personally know his patients or anything. The nurse even told me that if it hadn't been an emergency, he wouldn't have ever done the surgery on me."

Astrid felt anger boiling up. She was just looking for an outlet for it, and it was kinda nice to vent about that doctor after all these years. She sighed and all her anger dissipated. There was no point in being angry at a guy she'd never meet again. "It _was_ important to me, at one time, to find the surgeon and speak to him. Ever since Miranda died, I've had these recurring dreams of that night. Every night it's the same, or mostly the same. Sometimes I dream of her, and sometimes I dream of the surgery. Or more like I'm dreaming of the doctor I guess," she blushed, then frowned when she realised she was blushing.

"So you feel that maybe this doctor can help you find resolution?" Mary Jane asked softly.

"In a way, I suppose. I mean, I'm not really looking for resolution so much as _answers_. I honestly don't know why I think he's the answer, but I feel like I should go back to the source. He's as far back as I can go. I want to know why I keep having these dreams, why I lived and she...she didn't. I need some closure."

"Why haven't you found him yet?" Peter asked.

"Well, it's not for a lack of trying," Astrid replied. "I've searched hospital records, documents, the internet, you name it. Apparently the guy's name was Stephen Sanders, I think, and he left the country years ago. Went to live in Tibet or someplace like that. Other than that I've had nothing more than a dream to guide me," Astrid shrugged helplessly.

Mary Jane slipped her hand over Astrid's, giving her palm a comforting squeeze. "I'm so sorry Astrid. Life's dealt you a hard blow... Miranda sounds like a wonderful person," she smiled, her eyes crinkling up in the corners. "You know how I can tell? Because she lives on in _you._"

A warm feeling washed over Astrid. Something hard and broken began to soften at those beloved words. _She lives on in you_. Astrid wished it could be true, oh she wanted it to be so... but it was impossible. Astrid had failed her best friend. She'd allowed her to die. She didn't deserve this life. Fighting crime was the only way she could ever repay Miranda for her mistakes. There was no other alternative.

"Thank you for sharing this with us Astrid," Peter said gently.

"Thanks for listening," she said simply, swallowing the lump in her throat.

By this time the group was finished with their meal, but Astrid still had a half-hour before she was needed back at work. She wanted to stay and talk some more, just not any more about this subject.

"How are things at the university?" she asked, quickly changing the topic to much simpler things.

"It's good, it's going very good actually. The semester was off to a slow start but now that things are under way it's all going quite smoothly in fact." Peter replied, smiling. When he wasn't taking photos for Jameson, Peter worked as a science teacher for the local college. From what Astrid had heard, Peter enjoyed his career at the university and had made many scientific improvements and discoveries. He was a genius in his own right.

"And what do you think of the students?" Astrid asked with a mischievous grin.

Peter shrugged innocently, looking up to the ceiling of the establishment. "The students... are... great. I like them."

MJ nudged her husband's shoulder. "Riiight," she drawled. "Except for when they _beg_ you for pictures of Spiderman."

Peter laughed. "No, the photos aren't the problem. All my students are great it's just... It's just that Nelson kid. He gives me trouble like you wouldn't believe!"

Astrid furrowed her brows. "What kind of trouble?"

Peter shook his head. "It's like the kid always has his head someplace else. I know he's smart, and he knows it too, but he acts as though he doesn't care. The kid doesn't do his homework and refuses to pay attention in class. I've tried talking to him about it and he says that the class is a waste of time for him."

"Well, you know what your friend Stark would suggest," MJ muttered into her glass of water.

"What?" Peter looked at her questioningly.

"Stark?" Astrid was lost now. Since when had Peter been friends with the rich philanthropist Tony Stark?

"Throw a party," Mary Jane said with an eyeroll in response to Peter's question. "Or isn't that what he always does to get people's attention?"

"Ohhh, now I know what this is about," Peter smirked and nudged MJ playfully.

Astrid was still listening blankly, and Peter noticed this.

"Oh, sorry Astrid. Tony and I are good friends. When I started my work at the college he was very impressed with my scientific contributions, and every now and then I help him with his tech."

"Oh." Astrid nodded, interest sparking in her eyes. "Geez, I really _have_ missed out on things. I didn't know you were friends with Stark until just now."

"Well, it's not exactly something I like to share," Peter said quietly. "I mean, Tony and I are friends, but we're more like lab partners. I wouldn't want my relation with him to affect other aspects of my life."

"Like your marriage," MJ snorted. Peter just glanced at her, then looked back at Astrid.

"Actually, Tony's having this business party a few days from now. This Friday if I'm correct. Tony invited MJ and me to come, and I was wondering... Would you like to join us?"

Astrid flushed, feeling slightly embarrassed. He was just the nice guy being charitable to the poor girl who had no family or friends to speak of. Well, she didn't need charity and she wasn't asking for it.

"Peter, that's very nice but..." she lowered her gaze. "I don't really do parties. It's not-"

"Please," MJ implored her with her gaze. "We want you to come. And it's not _that_ kind of party, trust me. If it was we wouldn't even be going."

Astrid hesitated, her pulse pounding out a fast rhythm in her throat. Something in Mary Jane's gaze, her pleading words, made her want to say yes to the red-head.

"Alright," she smiled softly. "I'll go. What time do I need to be ready?"

Peter and MJ looked relieved at her answer. "The party starts at 8 pm, so we'll come and pick you up at 7:30. Sound good?" Pete asked her.

Astrid jerked her head in a nod. "Sure, sounds great." she flashed them a smile. Suddenly she felt all fluttery and jittery, like millions of butterflies were coming alive inside. She was going to a party. Yes, a rich fancy-shmancy party, but a party nonetheless. Looking at the beaming faces of her friends, she didn't even bother deluding herself about charity and false friendship. They really did want her around, and for now that's all Astrid needed. To know that she was loved. That she was _wanted_.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you Regina Spektor for those beautiful lyrics that I borrowed. That song makes me cry every time I hear it, whether in hope or remorse, I always cry.**


	9. Angels Show Up

**A/N: Alright my faithful followers, here comes the chapter we've all been waiting for. My gosh I have been procrastinating about this one like you wouldn't believe, and all my close friends had the displeasure of listening to me rant. Thanks y'all!**

**PS: as my friend Joe so eloquently put it, Astrid has claws. Big claws ;)**

* * *

_"Angels show up in the strangest of places..." -Skillet_

Friday night Astrid made sure she was home by six so she could get ready for the party. That whole week she'd spent fussing over what she should wear. It wasn't easy to choose since there was certain to be a measure of elegance at this social gathering, and Astrid only had so much money to spare. She'd had the luck to find a lovely secondhand dress shop a few blocks up the road that carried very trendy and elegant dresses of all styles. The place fit her paycheck too, which was the most important aspect. After an arduous search Astrid at last found a lovely blue gown that met her qualifications.

At 6:30 she took a quick shower, then dried off her hair, and brushed out the straw-gold locks in rapid strokes. Then Astrid slipped on the satiny midnight blue gown, adjusting the straps slightly and then smoothing it out. She allowed herself a moment to admire her reflection in the mirror. The dress was cinched at the waist, then fell softly down to her ankles. A lovely ruffle that began at her waist and ended at the hem complemented the gown nicely. Overall it was elegant and yet not overbearing. Astrid thought she looked quite nice in it. Perhaps even... attractive. She blushed and shook her head at the thought. Astrid was going out to be with friends, not to find a possible _boyfriend._ Astrid hadn't had a boyfriend since college. After everything that had happened in her life, she just didn't care about "relationships" any more. At least not one's like _that_. She was beyond those things now.

Noticing that she only had 35 minutes left to get ready before Peter and MJ came to pick her up, Astrid quickly got to work on her hair and makeup. It didn't take her long to do the basics: concealer, foundation, blush... and a light shimmery face powder to add definition. Then she added some shading to her lids, applied eyeliner, mascara, and then finished it with a light gloss of rose pink lipstick. Admiring herself once more, Astrid had to admit that she had done one heck of a job. Astrid's lovely shoulder length hair fell in soft waves, the curls caressing her bare shoulders. The clock read 7:28. At the last moment she slipped on her heels. Then, giddy with excitement Astrid tossed on a shawl and practically flew down the stairs.

"Oh Astrid don't you look just lovely!" MJ exclaimed when Astrid slipped into the backseat of the car.

"Hey Astrid," Peter said, smiling at her from the rearview mirror.

"Hiya Pete. Thank you," Astrid directed towards Mary Jane. She buckled herself in and then they set out. Peter was dressed nicely in a black suit and tie, while Mary Jane looked wonderful in her shimmery cream gown.

"You look absolutely beautiful," Astrid told MJ with a smile. "The dress goes perfectly with your hair."

MJ laughed. "Thank you. Red hair makes almost _any_ outfit impossible. But I managed." she shrugged. "I'm so glad you came Astrid. All this time I've been worrying myself over nothing. I thought that you might change your mind, because I know that times have been tough lately... And I was worried that we might have thrust you into an awkward situation just asking you at random like that."

"No, it's completely fine MJ," Astrid said sincerely. "I'm really happy that I'll get to spend the evening with you guys, and, in all honesty I think I just needed to get out of the house. So this is wonderful," she smiled softly.

"See, MJ, I told you you were worrying for nothing," Peter chided playfully.

"Oh please. I was just being concerned for my friend. Besides, it'd be good for Astrid to have some fun. Right Astrid?" MJ asked over her shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "And as beautiful as you are, I'm sure you'll have no problem finding a date."

Astrid laughed nervously. "That's okay. I'm not really looking for one." _And I don't really need one,_ she added silently.

The business party was located on the other side of town, at a fancy hotel known as _The Plaza. _Peter explained that Stark had been having some recent business dealings with OsCorp Industries, and thus had decided to throw a party for the affair. Stark had invited several business associates and many of his close friends, including Peter and his wife.

"Apparently this is supposed to be a big deal," Peter said absently as he navigated the car through the streets. "I expect the place to be pretty crowded, since the business affair will affect a lot of the corporate giants."

Astrid was beginning to feel self-conscious about her dress, and even her mere presence. She was wondering what the spaghetti straps and the low back said about her personality. Did it say, '_Hey, I'm delicious, come and eat me up_'? Astrid didn't want to go around looking like a walking advertisement. A panicky feeling started to set in.

At long last they turned onto the street that led to the _Plaza_ hotel. There was a line of cars slowly trickling to the hotel's entrance, where valets stood at attention ready to relieve the drivers of their vehicles. The line of cars advanced slowly, moving like snails through syrup. Astrid shivered and wondered again if it was too late for her to back out of this whole mess. It probably was.

After several long stops they eventually made it to the hotel's front entrance. Peter paid the valet and the three of them stepped out into the cool November chill. As Peter headed into the building, Astrid pulled Mary Jane aside suddenly.

"MJ, do you think this dress is okay?" she whispered, gesturing at the outfit.

"Of course it is Astrid. You look wonderful in it!"

"Well, I mean, it kinda has a low back and-"

Mary Jane rolled her eyes, and smiled reassuringly. "Astrid, it's _fine_. You have great taste honey. Now let's go!" she waved for Astrid to follow her inside. "I thought you wanted to have some fun."

"I do!" Astrid said, a little indignantly. They stepped into the building, and were confronted by a huge throng of people, all talking and bustling about in the foyer.

"Oh my," Astrid gasped. Peter had said there would be a lot of people, but she hadn't expected _this_ many. She was suddenly fully aware of just how much skin she was showing. Astrid longed for her shawl, but unfortunately she'd forgotten it in the car.

"There you are!" Peter said as he made his way through the crowd to stand next to them. "I come inside thinking you guys are with me, then the next second I look and you're not there."

"Sorry Pete," MJ leaned up and pecked her husband on the lips. "I was helping Astrid with something."

Peter looked at Astrid, his brows furrowing slightly. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no." Astrid shook her head quickly. She wished Peter would stop treating her like a china doll. She understood he cared about her as a friend but he acted like if he left her alone she'd commit suicide or something. He needed to calm down and relax. "I'm just getting used to the atmosphere is all." She smiled in reassurance but inside she felt fake. She didn't belong here, with all these rich and affluent people. She was just a girl from the sticks, the backwoods of Georgia. She wasn't anybody special.

Peter nodded distractedly, then turned to MJ. He was saying something about conversing with a few of his old colleagues, though Astrid couldn't be sure due to the din of voices echoing in the _Plaza's_ foyer. She wasn't much up for meeting new people just yet, so she figured maybe she'd go and have a look around. Besides, she'd only drag her friends down. They should have fun without having to babysit her.

"Hey, um... I was thinking I'd go and take a look around the place," she told Peter.

"Sure," Peter said, though he looked confused. "Just be careful. This place is a madhouse." Astrid nodded and slipped away to lose herself in the crowd.

* * *

It wasn't long before Astrid grew disenchanted of the crowd theme. The people themselves were quite fascinating to watch, and some of their conversations seemed interesting but most of them were beyond Astrid's understanding. She overheard groups discussing the rise and fall of stocks, the rapid marketing change, and what the latest fads of the season were. Actually, she changed her mind. Most of the conversations were _boring_. She felt completely out of place here. She must stick out like a sore thumb.

Entering the ornate high-ceilinged ballroom, it was then that she saw _him_. And she would have never noticed _him_ had it not been for Tony Stark. The billionaire himself was easy enough to spot, since he was standing on a slightly raised platform at the front of the room, conversing with several other businessmen. Astrid recognized Stark from all the photos in newspapers and magazines she'd seen him in. A few of those she'd edited herself. It wasn't Stark who held her interest now, rather, it was the man behind him. He stood off to the side, hands clasped in front of him, an air of bored patience about him. He looked as though he was just waiting for the chance to pull Stark off to the side and give him a few choice words. The man's gaze flickered to hers and Astrid hurriedly looked away.

_'How perceptive of you,'_ a quiet voice said from the back of her mind. Astrid wasn't sure if that was her own thought or if she was hearing things now. Slowly, that familiar feeling of oddness swept over her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck and causing her fingertips to tingle. This was definitely her mysterious stranger. She had finally found him.

And, of all places, at a party.

Astrid walked along the edge of the crowded ballroom. She snagged a glass of punch from the drinks table and settled herself at the far right side of the room, where she could inconspicuously keep an eye on her mystery man. She glanced again at the dais where Stark and his cronies were standing. The dark-haired man was still there, patiently waiting to say his piece. Astrid wasn't sure how much luck he'd have talking to the billionaire. It looked like Stark was already drinking and if he wasn't drunk yet, he soon would be.

"I've been looking from hell to high heaven for you," Astrid muttered darkly. "and I finally find you in the most unlikely of places." Astrid wondered what the stranger's relation was to Tony Stark. Were they business associates? Not likely. Though, dressed elegantly in a dark suit and tie, the man certainly looked the part. It unnerved her somewhat, how outwardly calm he appeared. It was as though his face were a mask and behind that mask any number of things could be going on. What a mystery.

Astrid had to force herself to look away, once she realised she'd been staring again. She had the strangest feeling that he knew who she was, though he had barely glanced at her once. The thought made her scalp prickle. How could he suddenly show up, now? When she'd just given up hope of ever finding him again. Was it some sort of sign? Sneaking one more look at the man, Astrid _knew_ she had to talk to him. Somehow, before the night was out, she'd have to get his attention and speak with him. She'd waited too long to let this opportunity slip away from her.

Astrid waited. She paced. She racked her brains for ideas, for ways to start the conversation, how to even get his attention! Should she come clean and say who she really was? That she was the one present from the ceremony about a month back? It sounded crazy, but he of all people should know what she was talking about. But would he even remember her? All these doubts swirled around in her mind like a hurricane, accomplishing nothing except to give her a headache. Astrid drained her glass and suddenly wished it was something stronger than punch. She stared dismally into the empty glass.

"I need some air," she announced to no one in particular.

Music had just started and couples were getting paired up when Astrid slipped out of the room. Perfect timing. Phew, she'd escaped. Astrid wasn't much of a dancer, and she definitely didn't need to make a fool of herself by getting stranded on the ballroom floor. By now the hotel lobby was mostly empty, save for the occasional straggler like herself. She felt constricted though, like she was slowly suffocating. She couldn't think straight. Astrid turned down one of the hallways, her heels making clicking noises on the marble floor.

Halfway down the hall she stopped, leaning her head against the wall. It was much quieter out here. She could think better without so much noise trying to cram its way into her skull.

_'Okay, he's here. He wasn't some hallucination I had due to stress and a lack of sleep. I guess this crazy obsession of mine wasn't so crazy after all. So, now that I've found him, what am I gonna do?' _Astrid furrowed her brows, thinking hard. She knew she had to go and talk to him, but it was the approach that scared her. She wasn't exactly the most sociable of people. Maybe... Maybe it was better if she didn't know the truth. Just forget it ever happened, like he said. Yeah. Sure. Astrid banged the back of her head into the wall in frustration.

_'Here's what you're gonna do,'_ she told herself firmly. _'You're gonna go back in there, march right up to him, and tell him how badly you've been needing to talk to him!'_

"Hey there."

Astrid was abruptly pulled from her thoughts. She quickly plastered on a smile for the blonde-haired man who had addressed her.

"Yes? Um, can I help you?" she asked, a little too brightly. Astrid hoped this guy would go away soon. She was on a mission and she couldn't afford any more interruptions.

"You could help me get to know you a little better," the guy said smoothly. His brown eyes bored into hers hungrily. He placed his hand on the wall, leaning closer to her. The scent of his heavy cologne filled her nostrils, making her want to gag.

_'Uh-oh,'_ Astrid thought helplessly. Better get rid of this guy fast!

"I saw you leave the party and I thought this would be a great time for us to talk." He gave an easy half-smile, probably thinking it made him look good. Which, Astrid noticed, unfortunately it _did._

"UM-" Astrid squeaked. How to get rid of this guy?! Alarm bells were going off in her head, screaming "WARNING WARNING WARNING".

"My name's Kyle," he said, looking at her from under his heavy lids. She noticed his eyes traveling downwards.

"Sorry, but I'm not interested..." she said weakly.

"What might _your_ name be?" Kyle acted as if she hadn't even spoken. His gaze rested on a point just below her collarbone.

Suddenly, she snapped. There was _no way_ she was going to be treated like somebody's toy.

"My eyes are up here, jackass!" she raised a hand to slap him.

"Excuse me," a new voice said. "Is this man bothering you?"

* * *

At last Stark bade farewell to his associates. Stephen wanted to sigh in relief, but he held his composure. Anthony Stark turned to him with an eyeroll.

"Alright Strange, you got my attention." Tony squinted at the other man. "Geez, how long you been standin' there? This is a party man," he slapped him on the back. "You need to loosen up."

Stephen did sigh, now. "Anthony, I would have preferred to speak with you under different circumstances, however you kept blocking me out. And..." he glanced disdainfully at the glass of liquor held in Stark's hand, "It is unfortunate that you are already intoxicated."

Tony smirked. "What gave me away?" he asked, swaying slightly as he chugged down the rest of his drink. "You can glare at me all you want, but I _still_ say you should try some. It might help you _smile_ a bit more." Stark drawled lazily.

Stephen ignored his last comment and turned the conversation to the more pressing matter at hand. "Anthony, it's not too late for you to pull out of this deal. OsCorp Industries will bring you nothing but-"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Tony slapped a hand to his face, groaning loudly. "Not this again. How many times have you told me now?" Tony started counting off on his fingers, then lost track, frowned and started over.

"Stark, this is your last chance to pull out. OsCorp is going down the drain. You pour your money into it you'll end up losing millions."

Tony shook his head. "No, see, here's where you're wrong. _I'm_ a part of the company now. So _because_ of me, my money, AND my ingenuity, the business can only improve. There's no way it could go wrong if I'm involved. Take it from an industrialist playboy billionaire, I know what I'm talking about."

"And what if this had something to do with your Iron Man technology?" Stephen was giving it one last shot. Time and again he'd tried warning Stark of the dangers involved if he chose to take a share of the company. Not surprisingly, the man refused to listen. Stephen had attempted explaining that this was more than the millions Stark Industries could lose. No, it was on a much wider scale than that. In the recent past, OsCorp had out of desperation done some shady dealings with AIM to keep the business afloat. By taking shares of the company, Stark was only further embroiling himself in this mess.

Tony cocked his head thoughtfully. "Okay, you've said that before and I'm beginning to think it's a threat."

Stephen glanced back at the corner where the young woman had been, but she wasn't there now. His eyes searched the room yet he couldn't find her. _He needed to speak with her._ Rather than replying to Stark's idiocy, Stephen quickly excused himself. "I'm sorry, I have to go now." Another moment and he was gone, having disappeared into the crowd.

"Finally got rid of him," Tony smirked to himself.

* * *

Astrid paused mid-slap to see that it was her mysterious stranger approaching. For a moment she was shocked by the sheer ferocity held in his clear eyes. There was death in that gaze. Then she blinked and it was gone, as though a veil had been thrown over it.

"Is this man bothering you?" he asked tersely, as though he already knew the answer to that he was just waiting for Astrid's permission to get rid of the creep.

Before Astrid could answer Kyle jerked his arm out of the newcomer's grasp. "She and I were just talking. Leave us the hell alone."

Tension was a tangible thing in this moment, Astrid could almost feel it's oily touch on her skin. Ignoring the man, her mysterious stranger turned his piercing gaze on her.

"Will you come and dance with me?" he asked simply. His look made it clear he was offering her a way of escape.

Astrid nodded quickly. "Yes! Yes," she said more quietly, not wanting to appear too enthusiastic. The blonde jerk was glaring daggers at her now. "Listen jerk," Astrid poked Kyle hard in the chest. "I _told_ you I wasn't interested. So fuck off," she snapped, her nostril's flaring angrily.

The handsome stranger, deciding that that was enough, took her gently by the arm and steered her towards the ballroom. "Come along," he murmured.

Astrid was seriously pissed at that Kyle dude. The way he'd been looking at her as though she were some sort of meal! Subconsciously Astrid readjusted her dress straps so not so much cleavage was showing. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment. Well, she had gotten the stranger's attention all right.

"Um, thanks for the save," Astrid said, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. The man watched her curiously. He held the door to the ballroom ajar for her.

"Oh, I don't really dance..." Astrid shook her head, nervously taking a step back even though she wanted to go forward.

He smiled. "Nonsense. It's easy, I'll show you." The man held out his hand for her. Astrid tentatively took it and he led her into the ballroom. Things had quieted down somewhat, with couples gathered on the dance floor and soft music playing. The lights were dimmed, creating an ethereal atmosphere. On the far side of the room groups of men were gathered together conversing quietly. Astrid spotted Peter and MJ on the dance floor. MJ smiled and waved at her, then winked when she saw the man Astrid was with. Astrid blushed and rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I just wanted to talk is all..." she said, nervously flickering her gaze to his. She found herself being guided onto the dance floor, despite her tentative protests.

"Yes, well, I wished to speak with you too, and what better way to do so than if we were dancing?"

Astrid couldn't find an argument for that. It was like her brain had gone numb. She was having trouble focusing on the task at hand. Then she remembered, she _had_ to talk to him about the cult! Very well, they could dance and then he'd see just how incapable she was at it.

His arm encircled her waist. Astrid felt a slight tingle when his fingertips brushed the skin of her back. He took her other hand in his.

"Just follow my lead," he said quietly. Astrid did, and miraculously she didn't trip or knock into anybody.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere else..."

"Have we met before?"

Astrid laughed and glanced away. "I'm sorry, this is just so awkward for me... I'm surprised I haven't tripped yet." They glided easily across the floor. Astrid felt as though she were walking on clouds. Which was a lot easier compared to melting ice, she figured. Her nerves were on fire from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She felt torn two ways, at once wanting to tell all and get it over with, but then hesitating at the last second. She still couldn't believe that she'd found him after all this time. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, number one being 'Where the hell have you been?'. She kept that one to herself of course.

"If I was being honest then I would have to admit that I don't know how to dance either," the man admitted.

"What? You're joking." Astrid scoffed. "I never learned how, but I can tell you know what you're doing."

The man shook his head, smiling in a self-deprecating way. "I just learn from observation. I'm a fast learner... But you're not doing so bad yourself. I can stumble for you, if it helps."

"No, please don't," Astrid laughed. "If you did I'd probably fall over!"

"Alright then, no stumbling," the man promised with a small smile. Then his grey eyes took on a more serious light as they searched her amber ones intently. "What is it you wish to know?" he asked softly.

Astrid took a moment deciding, having such a jumble of questions all crowding her mind that it was hard to choose one. Distractedly, she found herself admiring his angled features, how his dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his steely grey eyes... The man looked like an 18th century aristocrat! It was charming, in a way. Astrid took a deep breath. It was now or never. Suddenly she knew what she wanted to ask him.

"Well, a name would be nice," she said drily.

"That's easy. Dr. Stephen Strange, at your service." Astrid expected him to do a little bow or something, but he didn't. They were still, miraculously, dancing.

Astrid couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Strange?" she cocked a brow dubiously. "Haven't heard that one before..." she muttered, trying in vain not to smirk.

The man, _Strange_, gave her a look. "It's not a common name," he replied drily. "Now, would you care to tell me _your_ name?"

Astrid sighed. "Oh, I suppose. It's only fair. My name's Astrid Blake."

The man smirked. "Haven't heard _that_ one before..." he murmured.

"Oh whatever. I was joking! Sorry," Astrid said hurriedly. Crap, she didn't want to offend this guy. Not when he was so far the only person who could help her out. "Okay Dr..."

"Call me Stephen, if you like."

"Um, _Stephen,_" she said a little uncomfortably, not quite ready to be on a first-name basis. "I'm the vigilante you saw about a month ago. The night that you were stabbed... I've been looking all over for you because there's questions that I need answers to and right now you're the only one who can help me." He stiffened at her words, his eyes flickering to hers uneasily.

"Is that so?" Strange murmured thoughtfully. "You know, I _thought_ I told you to forget the whole affair."

"I didn't listen." Astrid shrugged helplessly. "What? Does it bother you that I've been obsessively searching for you?" she smirked.

Her dance partner shook his head. "No, I guess not," he sighed. "I'd rather you run into me than one of the Druids' members..." his voice trailed off pensively.

"Druids? Is that the cult?" she asked eagerly. Finally! Answers at last!

"...Yes." was his vague reply. "I don't believe you should involve yourself, Miss Blake. I stand by what I said earlier, you should forget. It will be well for you if you do so."

Astrid didn't get this guy. First he acted like he was prepared to share the secrets of the universe with her, then the next thing she knows he's clamming up again.

"Oh I see," she drawled sarcastically. "You don't think I can handle it. That just because I'm a _woman_ I should live a _safe_ life and never have anything to do with danger," she hissed angrily, wrenching herself away from him. Astrid stormed out of the ballroom, suddenly way too angry to consider saying goodbye to Peter and MJ.

"Ugh! All this time spent searching for a chauvinistic jerk!" she fumed. All the stress had reached its boiling point and she needed to vent.

"Miss Blake!" She heard the man call after her. Astrid ran out of the hotel. She stood shivering on the crowded sidewalk. People gave her odd looks as they passed her by.

"Astrid!" The man took her by the arm and whisked her back into the building. Before Astrid could argue any further she was led to a secluded corner of the foyer, where they could talk privately.

The man frowned, pacing back and forth frustratedly. Astrid opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Just-" he sighed. "Just, let me say my piece. It is not that I doubt your abilities Astrid. I never said that, though I can see where it might be inferred. It's just that," he stopped pacing and stood in front of her. "There are things in this realm you can't even imagine. Evil things, dark twisted things. When one contends with these forces, it leaves a mark on them. A mark that doesn't heal, or fade, with time." He absently touched the place over his heart. Astrid could look into his haunted eyes and _know_ he was talking about himself. Her anger evaporated all at once and was replaced by sympathy.

"My best friend was killed by a bunch of scumbags about six years ago," Astrid said hollowly. "Ever since then, I've been trying to make things _right. _To _do _right. I go after criminals to make sure they see justice. This is my purgatory, and there's no way I'm getting out of it. I won't be earning my freedom, because I don't deserve a freedom. I allowed my best friend to die. So there's a special place in hell for me. Don't try to "protect" me or whatever. Because I don't need it. I just want your help. And if you don't help me, then I swear to God that I'll search to the ends of the earth til I find these so-called Druids." It was a promise and he needed to know it.

A period of tense silence stretched between them. It appeared as though Strange was assessing her, weighing her words carefully. Straightening to his full height, he looked to have come to a decision.

"Very well. I will do my best to assist you in your quest for redemption, as well as to provide the answers you seek."

People began filing out of the ballroom, chattering excitedly. Astrid heard Peter call her name and she cringed. She couldn't leave just yet!

"Where can I find you?" she asked quickly. "Is there a phone number I can reach you by, any way for me to contact you?" Desperation betrayed itself in her voice.

She felt him slip something into her hand. "You can find me at that location," he whispered as he passed her by. Astrid held up a plain white business card. It read in simple curved letters _Dr. Stephen Strange, 177A Bleecker St, Greenwich Village, NY. _That was it. Astrid swore under her breath. A phone number would have been more helpful!

"Astrid! There you are! I've been looking all over for you," Peter came up and touched her shoulder lightly, breaking her concentration on the card. Astrid jumped, instinctively curling her hand around the small paper. She quickly put on a smile that she hoped wouldn't make her look guilty.

"Hey."

"Why'd you come out here?" Peter asked, furrowing his brows. "We saw you in the ballroom earlier, but later when I looked again you were gone."

"I'm sorry Pete," Astrid said, nervously tucking her hair back into place. "I, I just needed some air is all. Crowded places make me feel a bit uncomfortable."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I understand. Sorry, I just get worried... C'mon let's find MJ."

They found Peter's wife locked in conversation with several other ladies. Peter just barely managed to pull her away from the group, insisting that it was late and they should be heading home.

The whole car ride back to Astrid's apartment MJ was talking animatedly about her evening. For the most part Astrid just smiled and nodded. Her mind was on other things though. She clung to the business card like it was a lifeline.

* * *

**Dr. Strange is based on my own interpretation of him, and I'm borrowing elements from the animated movie until MARVEL studios grows a brain and decides to make him a live-action film. If you don't LIKE my Dr. Strange then you can show yourself to the door. That's it, right there, the little X button at the top of the screen. HOWEVER! If you _do_ like my Doc Strange then please keep reading and reviewing :D**


	10. Workin' It Out

**A/N: Sorry for the super long wait. Holidays really slowed my writing down but here's a couple updates for you. Okay these next few chapters have a lot of good stuff in them. Hope ya'll like :)**

**Warning: There is a lot of angst and depression in this one.**

**PS: The reason I write these stories is so that I can share and portray how I understand Dr. Strange, and help people to better understand him themselves. I know that a lot of people don't really get him so I hope that my stories can help people gain a better perspective of him.**

* * *

_"Some days, I start off draggin' my feet... Some days I wanna fly...  
Some days all make sense to me... Some days, I just don't wanna know why...  
__Hey, hey, I'm not givin' up no, I'm gonna stand up and shout it... Oh yeah, I'm workin' it out, __" -Hilary Duff_

Astrid hardly slept a wink that night. She tossed and turned, her mind running a million miles a minute trying to remember every detail of her encounter with Dr. Strange. It was a relief to finally stumble out of bed at 6 AM.

She hoped that work would provide a pleasant distraction for her. It did not. When she first clocked in Astrid knew she had nine solid hours of complete and utter boredom before she'd be free. The minutes ticked by. Astrid had trouble focusing on her work. She kept glancing at her watch or at the overhead clock, praying that time would go faster. All she wanted to do was follow the instructions imparted unto her and go to the address indicated on the white business card. The anticipation was driving her crazy. She'd never been good at waiting.

Astrid was growing restless. Her job was so... _ordinary._ Unchanging. Day in and day out it was the same. Every day she went to work, did her job, tolerated her co-workers, and earned a paycheck. Is _this_ what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life? Work this job for forty years and then... you die. Time went on, painfully slowly. The monotony of daily life was beyond frustrating. If it weren't for her nightlife as a vigilante Astrid might have gone insane a long time ago.

She rubbed wearily at her eyes, wishing that time would go faster. She'd brought the business card to work with her and it was just eating a hole in her pocket. As soon as Astrid got off work she was going to that address. This mystery had been played out for long enough and Astrid was done with the games. She wanted solid, hardcore answers. And she was damn well going to get them.

The hours crawled by, with Astrid barely hanging on to her sanity. So far, her day wasn't going so well. The printer had run out of color again and Astrid hadn't been able to find the new cartridges. She had accidentally messed up some of their newest headline photos, which turned the people's skin tones a sickly green. Jameson, not surprisingly, hadn't seen it as an accident at all, and had chewed her out for her "practical joke". Peter had stopped by, made a funny comment about their nice "Hulk" shades, then had departed for the rest of the afternoon to do who knows what. Then, when her lunch break finally came around, Astrid had tripped over her own feet and nearly broken her neck on the stairs.

Yep, her day was going just peachy. It was just one of those days where Astrid _really_ hated her life.

Her afternoon didn't go much better. Since her computer wasn't installed with antivirus programs yet, it contracted an online virus, several actually, and decided to crash on her. Astrid still had four hours remaining on her shift though so she spent the rest of the time running errands and doing odd jobs for people, namely fetching coffee for Jameson.

Time continued to move slower than molasses. Would her day _never_ end?

* * *

Fortunately, it did. Astrid was pretty worn out by the end of her shift. She couldn't wait to get home and take a shower, to wash all the dirt and grime of her bad day away. Always though, waiting at the back of her mind like a hidden gem, was the thought of going to visit Strange tonight. More importantly, the thought of getting the answers she needed. Her exhaustion from work quickly ebbed and was replaced by anticipation for what she had planned that night.

When Astrid pulled up to her apartment a woman she had never seen before quickly exited the building and hurried down the stone steps. Astrid shouldered her purse, slowly exiting her car and keeping an eye trained on the dark-haired woman clad all in black clothing and a trenchcoat. Was that the glint of a white skull emblazoned on her shirt? Curiosity sparked up. Something about the woman's retreat, the way she had her shoulders set and she kept her gaze locked ahead, suggested that this was a woman you wouldn't want to mess with. Warning bells went off in Astrid's head. Naturally, that made Astrid want to get closer to the woman. When it came to these things, she was never known for her sensibility.

"Hey!" Astrid jogged up to the woman, her purse banging a rhythm into her thigh. The dark-haired woman stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder, a look of surprise etched on her face. Then just as quickly it was replaced by cold indifference.

"What do you want?" she asked wearily, her voice coming out sad and husky.

That was a good question. Now that Astrid had her attention, what _did _she want? Astrid shoved her hands in her pockets to keep the winter chill off of them. Her eyes quickly took in the woman's worn clothes, scuffed combat boots, grimy dirt-stained fingernails, and the slight bulge in her trenchcoat where a weapon might be concealed. What struck Astrid the most was the look of pure exhaustion in the woman's ice-blue eyes. It was a look that said there was no end to her hell on earth. It took Astrid mere seconds to take all this in. With a woman like this there would be no use beating around the bush. The most direct route would be the safest.

"You look like you're in some sort of trouble," Astrid said bluntly. She relaxed her stance, hoping to set the woman at ease and get her to talk to her.

"I'm always in trouble," she replied calmly. "But what's that to you?" Her eyes flashed red as she balled up her fists.

Astrid didn't even flinch. "You've got that look about you, the look of the _hunted_. The look of the _hunter_. It's something only a fellow vigilante can recognize." Astrid glanced again at the familiar skull symbol on the woman's black shirt. So Frank had a partner now? Or more like a wannabe tagalong? From what Astrid could see, this woman was anything _but_ a wannabe. Wherever she went, she meant business.

Slowly the woman unclenched her fists. She eyed Astrid warily as though she were a grenade that might go off in her face.

Astrid continued, speaking softly. "I have no idea why I feel compelled to speak to you. Sometimes I get these, _pulses_, in my head, telling me what I should do, where I should go, or even when I need to do these things. They never tell me why. I've learned to trust my instincts though," Astrid shrugged, suddenly feeling slightly defensive about her oddity. "I don't know, maybe it's my conscience. Or maybe it's something more. A gift. All I know is that whatever caused this, it was no accident." Words kept flowing from her lips. Astrid couldn't stop them. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that _this_ was what she needed to say.

"I would know a lot about accidents," she continued. "I know that they suck at the time, and we hate it and hate it when it happens, but there's a reason for it. There always is." Astrid thought of Miranda, feeling a fresh wave of regret wash over her. Astrid had stayed in Miranda's place, though not a day went by that Astrid didn't wish they could have switched places. What was the reason for this? Why should one live and the other die? Would good ever truly come of it?

"Stop." The lone word came out sounding parched and strangled, as though the woman didn't talk much. She probably didn't. "I don't want to hear it. No matter how _good_ your intentions, no matter how _righteous_ you think you are, You. Don't. Know. Me." she bit off each word, anger and self-loathing evident in her tone of voice. Astrid was failing her, failing her like so many other people she'd failed. "If you did then you'd know there was no helping me."

The woman turned her back on Astrid, trenchcoat flapping about her like a dark flag in the wind. She stormed away.

_Failure_. The word bit into Astrid's mind like a sharp knife. _You are a failure_.

"I'm sorry!" Astrid cried out after her, so much emotion evident in those two words. _I'm sorry for your loss... For your pain... I'm sorry I can't help... Sorry I'm a failure... Sorry... sorry... sorry..._

_I'm sorry Miranda._

Astrid sucked in a breath at the unbidden thought. The breeze picked up, scattering red and brown leaves about the sidewalk. Astrid's hair whipped into her face, the red-gold strands tangling in the sudden gale. She brushed it back furiously, then hunched her shoulders against the chill and ascended the steps to her apartment.

Astrid felt like such a failure. The encounter she'd had only moments ago was a blunt reminder of how often she'd failed somebody. She could have done better, should have tried harder... but in the end she would always fail. The look in the woman's eyes said that clear enough. _You can't help me._

Frustration reached its boiling point in Astrid and bubbled over. She flung her purse across the room, contents spilling out all over the floor. She slammed the door behind her.

"WHAT IS THE POINT OF MY EXISTENCE?" she screamed, tearing at her hair. Astrid's form shook with pent-up rage. She balled up her fists, suddenly needing to hurt something. She punched the wall, over and over again, until her knuckles were raw and bloody.

"Useless!" she screamed. Her knuckles bruised and split, thick blood oozed from the wounds. "You useless waste of space!" Voices screamed their accusations at her. Her stepmother spoke, face twisted with her disappointment of Astrid. _You're such a disappointment. You should have done better in life. You are a failure and you will **never** be good enough. For anyone._

Astrid collapsed from the weight of those words. She leaned back, her head resting against the wall, her bloodied hands resting in her lap. "It's _true_," she whispered. Not for the first time, she contemplated death. Surely that would be a better option. If she was such a failure then what was the point of living?

_No._ A still quiet voice said from the back of her mind. The hair on her neck stood up, and shivers ran up and down her spine. Astrid placed a hand over her face. She shut her eyes tight, breathing heavily.

"Don't. God, don't try to argue with me. Please." She wasn't in the mood for it right now.

_You are worth more to Me than the sun, moon, or stars in the heavens. You are Beloved._

Despite her denial, Astrid felt something in her respond to the tender words. A warmth spread through her, like she was being wrapped in a hug. She knew she didn't deserve it, she didn't want to feel it, but she did. She felt _loved._ Loved with a love that transcends all understanding.

* * *

An hour and a half later Astrid had showered, changed, and composed herself. She headed back out the door of her apartment, excitement renewed for her newest adventure. Greenwich Village awaited her. She still carried the white business card around, now shoved in the back pocket of her denim jeans. It was kept more as a keepsake than anything else at this point, since she already had the address burned into memory.

Astrid tossed her battered purse into the passenger seat then started up the engine. White exhaust fumes billowed up from the rear end. The worn and ill-used engine complained loudly of the bitter cold that froze its insides. Astrid uttered a foul word and banged her hand on the dash, urging the vehicle to work. The car sputtered to life with a harsh cough. Astrid offered up a prayer of thanks and backed the car out into the street, double-checking to make sure she didn't run over any jaywalkers. As screwed up as her day had already been, that was certainly _the_ _last _thing she needed. _Still,_ she sighed to herself, _At least I'm finally going to get answers from that Strange guy. _Her hands tightened around the wheel, knuckles screaming in protest as her fresh scabs split and blood oozed from the cracks and scrapes on her skin. The makeshift cloth bandages she had wrapped on either hand didn't offer much comfort, but at least it covered up the self-inflicted damage.

Pain shot up Astrid's arm. She gasped, jerking the wheel in order to make the right turn. She narrowly missed the oncoming van. Astrid swore again, loudly and vehemently. Her ears stung from all the bad language she'd been using of late.

Ten hairpin turns later, and one time spent asking for directions because she'd gotten lost, Astrid at last turned onto Bleecker Street. She found a parking spot a few houses down from her target address. From the safety and warmth of her car Astrid peered out at the building. It looked... ordinary. Disappointingly so. It was just a regular two-story white townhouse slapped together cheek-and-jowl style in between the other homes. What else had she been expecting? Astrid tried to contain her rising disappointment. Don't judge a book by its cover, they say. Or in this case, don't judge a person by his house. Wait... What?

Astrid shook her head and got back on track with why she was here. Without further ado she shouldered her purse and stepped out of her car. The sun had only just set, the light from the dying rays casting streaks of red and orange in the blue-purple twilight. Astrid tried not to shiver as she walked down the sidewalk and then ascended the steps to the door of 177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village.

"Somebody better be home," Astrid muttered into the chilly air. "Or I swear I'll rip him a new one. No more mysteries, stranger." She rapped on the door.

And waited.


	11. Famous Last Words

**A/N: Alright guys, this one's kind of long. Blame this chapter for the superlong wait -rolls eyes- There were a lot of details I had to cover, and then I felt I needed to backtrack a couple times. There are actually two song references in this one, one comes later in the chapter. The second reference is Getaway by Hilary Duff.**

**WARNING: Astrid is not a very nice person in this one :( and the song reference below, Famous Last Words, comes highly recommended. If you get the chance, please look it up after you read this.**

* * *

_"Narrow is the road and too high a price to pay,  
When loneliness is such a sanctuary_...  
_Empty are the musings, and wasted are the days...  
When you say you were only waiting,"-Jars of Clay_

The door swung open and warm light bathed her in its soft glow. Standing in the doorway was a man of Asian decent with close-cropped grey hair. He watched her with dark, glittering eyes. He was clad in a dark blue tunic and trousers.

"I am here to see Dr. Strange," Astrid said quickly. Her breath formed white ghosts in front of her face, the chill winter air biting into her skin.

The man appeared to hesitate. "My master did not inform me there was to be a visitor this evening..."

Astrid smiled sweetly. "He must not have known I was coming then. I'm Astrid Blake, I met him last night. Here," Astrid dug around in her pocket then pulled out the slightly rumpled business card. "He gave me this. Stranger told me to come here." The added consonant slipped easily off her tongue when she spoke his name. It was fitting, really, since for so long she'd only ever known him _as_ a stranger. Her mysterious stranger... Astrid abruptly stopped that train of thought, but not before a pink flush hued her cheeks.

The Asian man peered at the paper clutched in her hands, though he made no attempt to take it from her. Astrid's fingers had turned white from the cold. She hoped the guy would hurry up and make a decision about letting her in. She was freezing her ass off out here.

The man passed his hand over the card, his lips moving silently. After a moment he straightened, appearing satisfied.

"You may come in," He held open the door and ushered her inside. The servant shut the door with an audible click. "One moment please. I will inform Stephen that he has a guest." The older man walked away, disappearing around a curve in the hallway. Astrid took this time to study her surroundings.

The foyer she stood in was small but not stuffy, and opened out into an immaculate hallway. Gas lamps were hung at every other corner, casting flickering shadows on the deep red walls. The hallway seemed to stretch before her. The air shimmered and the room seemed to expand to dizzying dimensions. Astrid felt faint. She stumbled back into the wall, clutching a pale hand to her face. She took several deep breaths to clear her head. When she looked again it was just an ordinary hallway. Creepy. Whatever had just happened was anything but ordinary.

The man, servant she guessed, reappeared only moments later. "The Sorcerer Supreme will see you in his study."

Astrid nodded dumbly. She followed the man down the dark and twisting passageways. _Sorcerer Supreme?_ Astrid swallowed the lump in her throat. She shrugged off the lofty title and willed herself to be accepting of anything that was thrown at her. Things were not always as they seemed, and Astrid was just going to have to get used to that. A sorcerer was he? Astrid could handle that. Right? She thought so anyways. Unfortunately, she was having trouble convincing herself.

Astrid had lost track of how many doors they'd passed and how many turns they'd made. She wanted to smack herself. If she needed to beat a hasty retreat then all she'd accomplish would be to get herself hopelessly lost. Her neck prickled ominously. Astrid got the sense that this place didn't really follow the laws of physics. The inside of the house was much larger than what was viewed from the outside. _That_ was a defiance of natural law in and of itself. What a misleading facade. Very misleading indeed.

The servant abruptly stopped in front of oaken double-doors, one was slightly ajar. Astrid narrowly missed bumping into the quiet servant. She backed up a respectful distance, nervously tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Warm yellow light poured through the crack in the doorway and pooled at their feet, creating a luminescent glow about the hall.

The man rapped lightly on the door, then gently pushed it open with the palm of his hand. Astrid could see Strange within, leaning over a spacious desk with his attention completely devoted to several sheets of paper laid out before him. He neither looked up nor acknowledged their presence.

Astrid glanced at the servant. _Should she go in?_ Astrid was uncertain about the rules of etiquette in this household, but she could tell things here were done delicately. The Asian nodded for her to go in. She gave a small smile of thanks before turning away from the man.

Astrid crossed over the threshold, eyes widening in breathtaking awe at the enormous library she now found herself in. Every wall was lined with shelves, each filled with books upon books of every size and hue. Astrid longed to run her fingers along the spines of the books, to feel the knowledge and the mystery humming beneath her touch. The air smelled faintly sweet, like old parchment and worn books. Astrid breathed deeply. It'd been forever since she'd last stepped foot in a library. Astrid associated the wonderful smell of books with happy memories of going to her favorite bookstores. Back when she had time for such things.

On the opposite wall was a stone fireplace, large enough for a grown man to comfortably lie down in. It was made of simple, crudely cut stones, with dark smoke stains on the mantel. A fire was lit, casting the room in a comfortable glow and taking the chill out of the air. Clearly the fireplace wasn't made for beauty or decorum, but nevertheless Astrid appreciated its rugged nature.

Strange still had not acknowledged her presence. Under any other circumstance Astrid would have thought this rude, but she was here, in _his_ house, thus she had to play by _his_ rules. Astrid waited a respectful distance away, studying the man whose interest lay only in the many parchments set before him. She took note of his dramatic change of apparel, quite different from that of the dark suit he'd worn only the evening before. Tonight he looked comfortably at ease in black pants, a red vest with gold trim, and a white shirt underneath. Over the vesture he wore a deep red overcoat, which almost looked like a knee-length trench-coat , except the cut and style were more elegant. The cloth was rich and supple, made of a fabric that Astrid was unfamiliar with. _He looks good in red__, _Astrid thought at random. She banished the thought with a scornful eyeroll.

Astrid walked the rest of the way to the mahogany table. When she reached it Astrid saw that the papers on the desk were actually maps. Upon closer inspection it revealed that they were in fact detailed maps of the separate boroughs of New York and Manhatten. Strange slid one of the maps to the right, and flicked his wrist slightly to adjust the angle of the map. Astrid circled the desk, coming around to his end. She tilted her head to the side to try and see what he was seeing.

"Uh, Stranger? Your map of New York is sorta botched." She laughed, reaching over and adjusting the Bronx and Queens maps. "When's the last time you've had a look at New York? Cuz last time I checked Upside was _not_ in the Bronx. And 34th _intersects_ Rockwell, not runs straight through it." Astrid crossed her arms and leaned back, a smirk blooming on her face.

Strange studied the layout of the maps, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He shrugged and rested his hand on the table again. "Well, I was never really good with maps anyways. Thanks," He glanced at her, giving her a smirk.

Astrid shrugged carelessly. "You looked like you needed the help." She glanced again at the array of maps, all of them exactly placed just so, like a puzzle, to show the entirety of the city. Astrid felt herself relaxing, all of her earlier hesitation melting away like water vapor. She could handle this. She wore confidence like armor. _Be wise as a serpent, gentle as a dove. _She'd have to be confident, and wise, if she was going to be working alongside this man.

Strange picked up a small earthenware bowl that was filled with reddish grains of sand. Astrid watched in silence as he took up a small fistful of the sand and allowed the dregs to slip through his fingers. What remained he cupped in his fist, then held it to his lips and murmured an unintelligible phrase. Astrid observed all this intently, not letting a single detail escape her. Sure, she had no flippin' idea what he was doing but it was intriguing all the same. As she watched, a faint golden light began glowing from within his clenched fist. The glow grew brighter and more alluring. Astrid realised with a jolt that _the sand itself was glowing._ Without warning Strange threw the sand out in an arc, which fell and landed on the map in a glowing red streak. Strange then uttered a word and made a sweeping motion with his hand. The glowing particles fanned out across the table, covering the maps in its eerie iridescent glow.

"What are you doing?" Astrid breathed, eyes wide as saucers. If there was such a thing as magic, then this was certainly it. The sand particles settled into place. The whole desk was alight with a soft fiery glow.

"I'm searching," he replied vaguely, voice sounding distant and thoughtful.

Astrid glanced at him sharply. "Stranger, I'm gonna need more than that."

A faint smile touched his lips at the nickname she'd given him. Heaving a sigh the man straightened, his grey eyes finally meeting hers. "Over the past month I have been diligently searching for the Druids. Or, more importantly, I've been delving into their motives. Why, _why? _Now _that _is the question." He paused, presumably to see if Astrid had any questions. When she didn't say anything he continued. "The ritual they performed was one meant to conjure up a demon, one in particular. The spell they used implies the Druids' specifics."

For some reason, it didn't seem that far-fetched that a group of people were out there trying to summon demons. Cults, witches, and voodoo doctors had done that sort of thing for ages. True, in modern-day America that would be outdated and considered a step backwards, and was mostly unheard of, but there were plenty of crazies out there who would try anything for a bit of fame or fortune. _Or revenge._ The cold word sent a nervous shiver down her spine.

"So who'd they want? I mean, um, which demon?" Never in her life had Astrid imagined she'd ever carry on such a strange conversation. And yet here she was, doing exactly that.

"I don't know yet," Strange admitted reluctantly. "When I first arrived at the scene I assumed that it was an ordinary demonic ritual they were performing."

Astrid raised an eyebrow when he said _ordinary_. There was nothing ordinary about this but she refrained from saying so. Strange gave her a look that said _'Trust me I know what I'm talking about.'_

"You'd be surprised how many teenagers, religious groups, and even celebrities I've caught, all trying to summon a spirit to their aid. Every last one of them confused and misguided. Quite sadly mistaken about exactly what it was they were getting themselves into."

"Hmm, that sounds depressing. In a creepy sort of way," Astrid muttered. "So you said that these people, these Druids, weren't summoning just _any_ demon, right? But you got there too soon to find out which demon it is they're after."

Strange nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair. "Unfortunately, yes. If I had waited a moment longer then my task would be that much simpler."

A moment of still silence stretched between them.

"So why is it taking you so long to find them?" Astrid quipped, leaning against the table and planting a hand on her hip.

Strange's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "The answer to that is very simple. They're hiding, perhaps using my own magic against me to cloak themselves." Red-gold sand occasionally eddied about on the map, as though driven by an unseen wind.

"How so?" Astrid leaned over the table to better examine the intricate patterns made by the glowing element.

"The cult leader is a very powerful magician, though his abilities do not all stem from pure sources. He also has 12 followers which gives us the significant number _13_. He has a coven of his own, and demonic aid. Not a good mixture. He's been very careful in covering his tracks over the past month, lying low and using almost no mystical energy to speak of. At least that I've been able to detect."

"Which means...?"

"Which means I can't trace the cult's energy signatures."

Astrid thought this over, and in its own bizarre way Astrid had to agree that it made sense. If magic was real, and she was starting to think that it was, then it would have to emit its own kind of energy. Maybe sorcerers could detect that energy. That's what Strange made it sound like anyways. Comparing magic to things such as energy or particulate matter helped Astrid get a better grip on it.

"What if..." Astrid spoke slowly, testing the words in her head. She was thinking of when aliens had appeared in the skies above New York, a couple years back, and how they'd used a portal to travel between worlds. "What if the Druids were, I don't know, performing spells or rites in another dimension? They go from one place to the next until they know you can't find them. Like hide and seek?"

"You're quick," Strange smiled, pleased with her progress.

Astrid felt a twinge of pride for having come to the conclusion she had. Maybe she _wasn't_ so inept at understanding magic as she'd thought she was.

"I agree with you," Strange continued. "Where they're operating, if they're doing anything at all, is beyond my current sphere of influence. You see, not all planes of existence are easily trekked or can be mapped out. For example, the Astral Planes. They exist as a sort of mirror world to our own, comprised solely of spiritual energy and matter. Since it does not possess any physical qualities, it is impossible for it to be bound by the laws of gravity or physics." He paused. "Or_ logic,_" he added pensively.

"I get it. If the Druids _are_ hiding elsewhere you obviously can't go around searching every nook and cranny for them. That would take too long. So it makes things easier to have a map." Astrid glanced again at the luminescent map spread before her. _What was his plan?_ "But since these "Planes" defy all natural laws, they _can't_ be mapped out," Astrid summed up.

She knew he had something planned, or else what would be the point of telling her he knew where he could find them, but then he couldn't find them? No, she knew better than to think that. She was just waiting for him to share his backup plan with her.

"No, they can't. There are loopholes, however. The Sands of Ithmari'l, woven with elements of Fire and Spirit, serve as one such loophole."

Astrid raised an eyebrow dubiously. "What do they do?" She watched the glowing ember-like grains of sand, all scattered about the map, then turned back to face the relatively cool gaze of Dr. Strange.

He took his time in answering, gaze lowered pensively as he mulled over his words. The glowing embers of sand cast a strange light behind his eyes, as though they were lit by a fire of their own. Astrid's heart started beating faster. She felt a familiar tug of attraction.

Quickly jerking her gaze away Astrid cursed herself for being so easily distracted. She was here for answers and that was all. He was a man, nothing more. True, he was a sorcerer, or so she'd been told, and who knew what other secrets he possessed. But why should it matter?

"You see this map that I've laid out?" Strange gestured at the patchwork surface of the desk. "Before, it was just an ordinary collection of maps. Now, with the mystic Sands, I can detect mystical energies in the Astral Planes, as well as many other dimensions. The Sands tie into all planes surrounding New York, hence the map. They act as a window, albeit a very small one."

Astrid made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat. She placed her hands flat on the table, leaned over and studied the intricate lines and curves that made up her city. The sand felt cool and grainy beneath her skin. Not warm, as she'd expected.

"I can't see much from here, other than a weird glowing map," she said drily. She refused to look at him. "I guess what you're trying to say is that the Sands are tied to this "Mystic Realm" of yours," she made quote marks with her hands. "So if something happens then the _Sands_ will alert you, right? Or am I just completely bonkers?" She finally turned her head to look directly at the man.

Strange looked as though he'd seen a ghost. His gaze was locked on Astrid's hands. Or her bandages. Astrid couldn't be sure which. Astrid felt self-conscious under such scrutiny.

"Stranger?" she asked tentatively, moving her hands behind her back and out of sight.

He shook his head, the panicked emotion disappearing as the veil slid over his features once again. Strange met her gaze with hooded eyes.

"Sorry. Bad memories," he said by way of explanation. Strange came around the corner of the table to stand in front of her. He inclined his head towards her, his brows furrowing slightly. "What happened to your hands?"

If Astrid didn't know better, she'd say he was worried about her. Good thing she knew better.

"It's... just a scrape really," she shrugged. "I knocked into something and it rubbed me the wrong way. But I'm fine," she lied.

Guys didn't care about her, didn't _worry_ about her. Especially guys who knew next to nothing about Astrid Blake. The sooner Strange got that it didn't matter, the sooner they could get back to business. He was just being polite. Or possibly trying to avoid something... _Bad memories,_ he'd said.

Strange's gaze hardened. "Sit down," he ordered. Before Astrid was fully aware of what was happening she found herself seated in one of the lush armchairs that was placed before the fireplace. She rested her hands meekly in her lap. Strange took the stool and sat in front of her.

"Let me see your hands."

Heat rushed to Astrid's cheeks. For some reason she was embarrassed, and completely flabbergasted, at all this attention over her hands. "Really, they're fine. There's no need to freak out or anything." _Or care_, she added silently. Astrid held her hands closer to her body, as though guarding her twisted secrets.

Strange held out his hand, palm up, almost in invitation. His steely gaze brooked no arguments. Astrid hesitantly placed her hand in his, the gentle curve of her hand fitting easily into the hollow of his palm.

"I won't ask you again what caused this," he said as he unwrapped the cloth from around her palm. "Since you clearly do not wish to share."

Unspoken words hung in the air between them, words that hummed and buzzed like bees about Astrid's head. _I know that you lied,_ she saw clearly etched in his gaze. She shifted uncomfortably. Lying to him implied that she didn't trust him. Which maybe she didn't. Astrid pursed her lips and refused to say anymore.

Strange finished unwrapping the bandage, then tossed the ruined cloth into the fire. Sparks shot up and engulfed the cloth. Nothing but a memory was now left of it.

Stephen turned her hand in the light, inspecting the self-inflicted wounds. The bruises throbbed. Her skin stung in the open air. His fingertips hovered over her broken skin, as though he wanted to but he didn't dare make contact. Astrid tensed. She could almost feel an electric charge pass between them.

"This could get infected if left untreated," he murmured.

"What are you going to do?" Astrid asked.

Strange looked at her, raising his brows as if to say _'What do you think I'm doing?'. _Then he cupped her hand within his own. Astrid felt warmth wash over her wounds, warmth and dampness. Beads of condensation formed at the base of her knuckles, mixing with the dried blood and washing it away. The open welts on her knuckles now stood out raw and angry against the blue backdrop of bruises. Slowly the condensation dispersed. Next, she felt a stinging, itching sensation. Before her very eyes the skin reformed and healed over her split knuckles. Strange then placed his other hand atop hers. Astrid felt a rush of heat flow between their hands. When he removed his palm she saw the bruises were gone, as though they had never been.

Then he took Astrid's other hand and repeated the process. In a matter of seconds both her hands were healed. Stephen held her gaze, grey eyes searching hers thoughtfully. Her hands still rested within his, forgotten momentarily.

"How did you do that? Was that magic? You just used _magic_ to heal me?" Astrid slid her hands from his. Immediately she missed the warmth they had provided. She held her left hand up, flexing it. She clenched and unclenched her fist. There was no pain whatsoever.

Strange tilted his head to gaze into the fire, clasping his hands on his knees in front of him.

"I merely encouraged what was already going to happen," he said quietly, voice distant. "I used water molecules from the air to moisten the wounds, then in combination with the atoms that make up your skin I hastened the healing processes."

Astrid's cheeks tinged pink. She glanced away, whispering, "Thank you." She felt like she should say something more, something to make up for lying to him earlier. "I'm sorry, for... for rebuffing you like that. It's not anything to do with you, it's just," she sighed heavily. "I have issues."

Astrid cupped her hands in front of her, watching the firelight cast dancing shadows on her pale skin. She looked up to see Strange watching her curiously. Astrid had to look away again, unable to keep eye contact with that intense gaze.

"So, help me out here, 'cuz I've been having trouble figuring you out," Astrid smirked. She hid behind the armor of nonchalance, affecting an easy carefree smart-alec attitude to hide her true emotions. Which were all a helter-skelter at the moment. "When I got here your... friend out there said some things that sparked my interest. You're a _sorcerer, _is that correct?"

Strange nodded, but did not elaborate.

"And what you just did, with my hands... That was _magic_?"

"Yes?" Strange said in what sounded like an exasperated question. Astrid was pretty sure that at the moment they both had the same flabbergasted expression on their faces. Both looking at the other as though they'd gone completely bonkers.

"Hmm. Interesting," Astrid muttered, leaning back in her seat. She watched him with narrowed eyes. "Is it common for you to go around healing people? Are you a healer too?" She raised an eyebrow.

Strange was quiet for a moment. He appeared pensive.

"I used to be," he said at last. "What I did just now, yes, is considered healing in literal terms, but in truth it was nothing more than encouraging the natural process. It is not in my profession to go around healing people, except in the most extreme cases."

Astrid mulled over his words. "What do you mean, _used to be_? You're a ...sorcerer... now," she admitted grudgingly. "What were you before?"

Strange smirked. "You're still uncomfortable admitting the impossible. Afraid to realise that your world isn't quite the way you thought it was. That maybe it's filled with hidden dangers such as gods and monsters... and magic," he said in tones of observation. Astrid noticed that he still hadn't answered her question.

"Yeah, so?" she frowned at him and crossed her arms, feeling her frustration rise. "You're avoiding my question," she snapped.

"I was a man," he said just as quickly. "An arrogant, selfish, foolish man." He paused, then said softly, "and I was also a doctor."

_Now_ we're getting somewhere, Astrid thought excitedly.

"Mmhmm?" she prompted, leaning forward and resting her chin in her palm.

"I was an excellent doctor, some might say the best... Until I wasn't." He looked down at his open hands. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "There was an accident."

Astrid waited patiently. She wanted so badly to unravel this mystery of a man. He had something to do with her past, she _knew_ he was the man from her dreams, knew he'd played a part in her life so many years ago. It was time he offered confirmation. The silence was pregnant with unasked questions.

Strange shook himself, as though rousing himself from a dream. And an unpleasant one at that.

"But that's a long boring story that will only make you feel sorry for me and make the wrong decisions in life," his mouth curved up in a half-smile. He talked as though he were reading from a script.

Astrid fought to contain her disappointment.

"I don't think it's boring," she said quietly.

Strange locked his gaze with hers again. The look in his eyes said he wasn't ready to share his past with her. _Not yet._

Astrid sighed and backed down. She could understand though. They knew nothing about each other. Astrid wasn't willing to talk about her own life. So what right did she have to invade _his_ privacy? None, that's what.

"Sorry," she bowed her head, nervously rubbing her right thumb into her left palm. She anxiously thought of a way to amend the situation.

"It's no fault of yours. You are innocent, and naïve, of the world around you. I wouldn't want to ruin that by sharing my sob story." Astrid recognized the sarcastic tone in his voice. "Besides," he said wistfully, "some things are better left forgotten."

"It's too late now. I can't forget," Astrid said as she stood up. She reached into her back pocket for her phone to check the time. "You already dragged me into this mess just by being who you are."

She checked her phone, but it was dead. Weird, she recalled having it charged before she left the apartment. She stuffed it back into her pocket with a shrug. Astrid directed her attention to Strange once again.

"If you hadn't shown up that night, I don't know where I'd be right now. And last night? I can't believe you were there at the party. I had seriously just given up hope of ever finding you, and then you show up outta the blue. Like magic." Astrid ignored the unintended pun. "There's just something about you that I can't stay away from." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Astrid quickly snapped her mouth shut before she said anything _too_ stupid.

"I confess that I'm sorry to hear that," Stephen said honestly. He stood as well and adjusted his overcoat. His eyes swept the room before coming to rest on her. "I'll tell you honestly, it would have been better if you had never met me."

He'd just crossed a line.

Astrid narrowed her eyes. She would never understand this guy. Why couldn't he just _talk _to her? His rapid change of direction made their conversations unpredictable and dangerous. Like the ocean, one minute all would be peace and calm, the next it could be raging storms. Astrid could feel the tempest rising within. She clenched her fists, the knuckles whitening ever so slightly. She hated how outwardly calm he appeared. Sure, Stephen looked all calm and composed on the outside, but she could see the raging gale behind his own eyes. They were struggling, neither of them understanding how to talk or relate to the other. Who were they kidding? They were from two completely different worlds. They could _never_ relate. There never _would_ be understandung between them.

"_I have to go_," Astrid bit out. There was plenty more she wanted to say but she knew it wouldn't make a difference. She strode to the door and wrenched it open. "Wouldn't want to waste any more of your precious time," she sneered.

Words pounded in her head, the song both familiar and strange to her as she stormed out of the study and into the hallway beyond.

_Here I am again talkin' to myself, sittin' at a red light...  
First you wanna be free now you say you need me, can't you make signals and signs?  
It's so hard to let you in, thinkin' you might slam the brakes again..._

Astrid strode down the hallway. She trusted blind instinct to guide her out of this place. The melodic words continued to pound a painful rhythm at the back of her mind.

_Put the pedal down, headin' out of town, gotta make a getaway... The traffic in my brain, drivin' me insane, this is more than I can take...  
Gotta make a getaway... I gotta get away..._

A getaway. That's what she needed right now. She needed to get away... get away... from _him_. She needed to go to a place where she could _think_. Somewhere she could sort things out without his beautiful, haunted eyes watching her, taunting her with their hidden secrets. Angering her with their mysteries.

Astrid vaguely sensed Strange at her side. She had no idea how long he'd been there at her side, silently guiding her through this twisting maze. He took her by the elbow and led her to take a right, whereas Astrid had been about to take a left. And then there was the front door. Astrid jerked her arm away. She wanted to stay angry at him. It felt good to be angry at _someone._ After all this time, rage felt _good_. It gave her direction.

Astrid's hand wrapped around the doorknob. She was fully prepared to leave without saying another word, to just leave and maybe never come back. She was just that angry. Strange prevented her from leaving just yet by planting his palm against the door and leaning his weight into it.

His eyes bored into hers, shining a burnished silver in the half-light. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gaze soft and pleading with her. Their faces were mere inches apart. Astrid felt herself melting under that gaze. She hated the weak feeling that accompanied it.

"Sorry for what?" she snapped, taking a step back and out of his reach. "For being such a disappointment? For making promises that you don't intend to keep?"

Hurt flashed in his eyes. Good, she'd found a weak spot. A chink in his armor. She crossed her arms and leaned back, eyeing him lazily. Time to twist that knife. _No_ _one_ messed with Astrid Blake.

"Good lookin' guy like you, I bet you get a kick out of that. Messing with poor _innocent_ girls like me." She smirked as she watched her handiwork play out.

Strange slowly removed his hand from the door, a lost expression in his eyes like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hand fell uselessly to his side. He stepped back, his gaze locked on a point at his feet. He wouldn't even glance at her. His expression remained frozen, cold and stony. Astrid got the sense that if she pushed any more he might shatter. Wisdom told her to leave it be.

Maybe she'd already gone too far.

Anger flared up again. It melted away any doubts or misgivings about what she'd just done to him. So what? Strange had promised to help her, to explain things and give her answers. So far he'd only made things worse. What he needed to understand was that no one messed with Astrid Blake and got away with it.

Astrid stepped halfway outside. Her body felt caught in a state of limbo, half in, half out. She hesitated in the doorway. Frigid air came to stroke her face and hair, sending shivers down her spine. Strange hadn't said a word. He still wouldn't look at her. She felt the absence of his gaze like the absence of a warm coat in winter. A needle of regret wormed its way into her heart. Astrid stamped it down with more angry thoughts.

"Stranger," she said. He tensed, expecting another barrage of accusations. "I'll be back," she promised.

_Famous last words._

Astrid shut the door behind her and descended the worn grey steps to the sidewalk, abandoning the man and his mysteries. And, though she didn't know it at the time, she also left a part of herself behind with him.


	12. Demons

**A/N: This one is pretty intense. Thank you all so much for your wonderful, and often hilarious, reviews.  
Special thanks goes to...  
**

**ANimATion ImAgInAtIoN, for still reading my story and giving me helpful suggestions and overall being a great cheerleader. LOVE the support!**

**Gunslinger21, for not running away and thus proving my horrible nightmares wrong, and for never letting me down. Also for all the laughs ;)**

**Joe, for still trying to get to my house, even in blizzard conditions :)**

**and...**

**JotunChick11, at last, we meet again dear sister. I vas beginning to lose faith in you... but now I see that my fearz ver unfounded.**

* * *

_"It's woven in my soul, I need to let you go...  
Your eyes they shine so bright, I wanna save that light...  
I can't escape this now, unless you show me how...  
When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide...  
Don't get too close, it's dark inside, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide..."-Imagine Dragons_

His Astral form flickered restlessly as he waited in rising impatience for the woman to depart the Sanctum. Impatience wasn't a good emotion. It ate at him rather than sustaining him. He was fear itself. He was _Trauma._

Trauma watched from the shadows. His eyes shone beetle bright, alive with a maliciousness not commonly seen in mortals. At last the woman emerged, hot anger burning off of her in waves. Trauma grimaced, wishing he could blot out the emotion. He didn't like anger. Anger wasn't easy to work with, at least, not for him anyways. It was too strong, too impassioned, for his taste. Trauma preferred fear. He enjoyed it, _reveled_ in it. Fear turned even the strongest men into spineless milksops. Fear gave him power, gave him strength, over others. Fear, now, with _fear_ Trauma knew he could bend _anyone_ to his will.

A searing pain exploded at the back of his mind. It left behind a throbbing echo of agony as it faded. Trauma winced, his spirit form shuddering from the impact of the rebuke he'd just received.

_Of course, father. With fear **you **can bend all things to **your** will, _Trauma amended apologetically. The pain receded and the young man was able to think more clearly.

Trauma drew closer to the Sanctum Sanctorum, his incorporeal body passing easily through physical objects such as trees, cars, and yes, even people. Most often humans shivered when a spirit passed through them. It was delightful to watch, truly. In this weather though, the unnatural sensation would most likely be attributed to the chill of late autumn.

Trauma reached the base of the building that made up the sorcerer's sanctuary. The place practically _reeked_ of morals and high principles. Virtue, justice, and _honor_ above all. Principles that had been founded here since ever the first sorcerers emerged. Since before Strange's timeline ever began. These were things that Trauma himself no longer had a taste for. The blood in his veins, his _father's_ blood, boiled at being so near his enemy's home. Trauma ignored the displeasing sensation. He needed to focus if he was going to carry out the task at hand. Get in, get out. That's all he needed to do. Trauma reached out with his senses to probe at the many wards and safeguards about the house. It wasn't that he was going to _break in_, exactly. No, that was never the plan. To do so would be foolhardy at best. And at worst... If not death then certainly imprisonment by the sorcerer. The place was well fortified. Too much so that an outright siege on the place would be pure idiocy. The sorcerer was no fool. But then again, he never had been.

It'd been delightful for Trauma to traipse all over New York, leaving little teases of his presence here and there for the sorcerer to find. At the slightest provocation Strange would come running like a dog on a scent and search out all the wrong places. However, too much time had passed and Trauma knew that his little game would have to come to an end, sooner or later. The sorcerer was wary of this game now, having learned his lesson the last time he'd followed Trauma's scent. The cur had been met with a nasty set of mountain trolls and come out the worse for wear after that battle.

The stakes had now been raised. They were too high now for Trauma to fail his master. To fail his _father._

Trauma had expressed to his father that they needed a new plan fast, lest the sorcerer should find them out. No more games of hide and seek. It was time to find a weakness in that man, that mortal man, and use it against him. A chink in his armor where they would be swift to deal the crippling blow. Trauma and his father needed the sorcerer weakened for what they had planned. And afterwards, they would choke the life out of the cur. Ounce by dying ounce.

_**That will be MY pleasure and mine** **alone**,_ a deep grating voice said from the back of Trauma's mind.

_Yes father,_ Trauma thought demurely. He cringed under the god-like influence of his master.

**_Work quickly_.**

Trauma didn't need to be told twice. He closed his eyes once again, taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts. Then he opened himself up to pure, unadulterated _emotion_. The sense of anger, hatred, sadness, panic, and fear assaulted him from all angles. His abilities allowed him to sense the negative emotions that leaked off of people. Fear was the best. There were so many things one could do with fear. Inspire terror in a man and you could manipulate him to fit your agenda. You could break _anyone_ with fear. Trauma fed off of the emotion. And he should, after all he'd inherited this gift from his father.

Threads of fear, angst, rage, and sorrow surrounded him, bathing him in their infinite negativity. The nearest emotions came from within the Sanctum itself.

_Interesting. _Trauma knew he must investigate.

A malicious grin splitting his handsome face, Trauma drifted into the house, his Astral form making this possible. If he dared this in his physical form then his presence would be detected immediately. So long as he didn't trip any of the safeguards then things should be fine.

Trauma followed the thread of loneliness to where he guessed the library was. There were other emotions as well, such as frustration, and sadness. And, in such a minute dose that Trauma barely sensed it, _fear_. That final and seemingly insignificant emotion is what drew Trauma in like a fish on a line. Trauma drifted through the walls and into the expansive study.

Strange was seated on the floor, back against the wall, with his hands resting limply in his lap. He appeared pensive, a lost expression etched on his face. Trauma froze, briefly afraid that the sorcerer might see through his enchantments. Wrapped up in his own thoughts and emotions, it was clear that he could not.

Trauma snickered. He deeply enjoyed the tangle of emotions that surrounded the sorcerer, which had him wrapped in their thick binding webs.

"What's got you in such a mess?" Trauma wondered aloud, though he had the sneaking suspicion that it had almost nothing and yet _everything_ to do with the girl.

Having found what he was looking for, the ethereal being quickly departed the Sanctum. He'd found a chink in that armor, which was all he'd ever been looking for. _Weakness._ What he needed now was confirmation of his suspicions.

Trauma traveled quickly through space and matter, and arrived shortly at the dwelling of the woman who had left the Sanctum in such a flustered rush earlier. He'd been keeping an eye on this one, oh yes, ever since she'd poked her nose into business that was none of her affair. To show such obstinance, such _defiance_, in the face of fear, well, that was downright dangerous. The intrigue had only grown further when she began seeking out the sorcerer. If she could be used in the right way, she could be the very tool that would be used to break Stephen Strange.

Drifting through the walls and ascending to the second story, Trauma entered the woman's quaint living room. Dying threads of anger still burned off of her. The emotion made him uneasy but his misgivings were put to rest once he laid eyes on the girl.

The pretty young woman was slumped against the wall with her hands resting limply in her lap. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, brows furrowed in angst and confusion. She looked like a little girl lost. An expression of loneliness flickered across her stone-cold features. Loneliness, and fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of being alone, and of being _left_ alone. So in truth it was her loneliness that made her afraid. What a delicious cycle of fear. The woman's tangled emotions gnawed at her, leaving a shadow of the girl that once was.

Trauma recalled the image of Strange sitting in his library looking very lost and alone as well. The two could have been mirror images of each other. Each reflected the same emotions in the other.

"What do you make of this father?" Trauma asked thoughtfully.

_**Use the girl. We will manipulate her dreams, torment her, and lead her right back to the** **sorcerer.**_

"And then?"

_**Then we will show them both what hell truly is.**_

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" she whispered to herself, gripping her head in her hands.

She kept replaying the scene in her mind, over and over again. Astrid heard the harsh words that escaped her lips, saw the look of hurt and pain cross his features. The look of betrayal. She had betrayed him. Stranger had trusted her, had invited her into his home, and she'd turned around and stabbed him in the back.

Astrid heard again the words spitefully spoken. _Sorry for what? For being such a disappointment? For making promises you don't intend to keep?_ She remembered how her face twisted in cruelty and anger.

"Oh God, I'm a monster." Astrid hung her head between her knees, breathing hard. All her anger had evaporated, leaving her feeling cold and alone. She didn't like being alone. She was afraid of her own loneliness.

_You did this to yourself_, she thought harshly. Astrid rose to her feet, swayed, then placed her hand against the wall for balance. _You wouldn't have to be alone if you weren't such a cold-hearted bitch. You push everyone away. It's **you** that's the disappointment, not him. You're the one who breaks promises. Remember your promise, Astrid? You promised to keep Miranda safe. And look where that got her._

"STOP!" Astrid screamed. She clamped her hands over her ears to try and blot out the voices in her head. She ran into her room, tears streaming from her eyes. She threw herself in bed. Astrid burrowed under the blankets, burying herself deep to hide from her demons. She knew it was no use though. They were always with her. They were a part of her.

She cried herself to sleep.

* * *

"What's happened to you?" Miranda asked as they walked beside each other down the busy sidewalk.

Astrid shrugged, her shoulders hunching defensively. "I don't know, Miranda. I'm not the person I used to be. That much I do know."

Her friend was silent for a time. The two girls picked their way through the crowds. Faces passed by in a blur, moving either too fast or too slow for them to make out.

"But I thought this was what you wanted. What we'd always dreamed of. Meeting superheroes and fighting bad guys..." Miranda cocked her head to look at her. "Why are you trying to push that away?"

"I'm not trying to push anything away!" Astrid said, feeling defensive. She paused thoughtfully, and guilt crept in like the smoke before the fire. "I- I guess I am," she sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"Why?" The question was so simple. So infuriatingly simple. Why was the answer so hard?

"I don't know," Astrid said quietly. "It's hard for me to come to grips with I guess."

"What? Magic?" Miranda smirked mischievously. "You used to believe in that stuff. Wouldn't stop talking about it. Why, the Astrid I knew wouldn't ever take no for an answer, when it came to magic and supernatural stuff. We used to dream about it, about our heroes, and living out our lives. We believed in it, and in that way it became real for us. _That _was magic, in and of itself."

Astrid stopped walking. "It was different back then Mandy, back when you... when you were alive. I couldn't believe in things like that anymore. A part of me died along with you." Astrid locked gazes with those of her best friend. She felt the cool metal of the pistol in her palm. There was no stopping this. Miranda's blood was on _her_ hands. Hers and hers alone. Astrid leveled the pistol and fired once, sending the bullet straight into the heart of her dearest friend. "I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago."

Her friend crumpled to the ground. Astrid dropped the gun in shock, screaming. She stared at her hands, these hands that had taken so much, that had killed her best friend. Blood poured from her hands. She was covered in it, drowning in it.

Crimson waves splashed over her and battered her this way and that. She couldn't breathe. Astrid opened her mouth, desperate to try and gulp in oxygen, but thick blood poured in and choked her. She was going under. Crimson darkness blotted out the light. Dark... so much darkness. _She _was darkness.

Astrid gave one last kick, her hands clawing for the surface. She was getting lost in the flood. She couldn't find her way up. Then she felt a warm hand grasp her own. Someone with unnatural strength hefted her from the flood.

Astrid now stood on solid ground with Stephen standing opposite her. She had no idea how he'd come to be here, but she was greatly relieved to see him. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

Astrid was dripping blood. Her form shook, tears forming at the edges of her eyes and winding trails down her blood-caked face. She hugged herself tight, choking on her tears.

"_It will be alright,_" Stephen took a step towards her, reaching out a hand for her.

"No!" Astrid cried out and stumbled back. "Stay away from me." She slipped and landed hard on the ground. His grey eyes regarded her kindly.

"_I can help you Astrid... If only you'd let me_," he said softly, wistfully.

Astrid shook her head vehemently. "I'm not good for you. It's better if I stay alone. I can't hurt anyone that way."

Her skin started itching, a prickling sensation running over her body. She lifted up her hand and saw that she was covered with hundreds of black, angry spiders. Arachnids of all shapes and sizes scuttled over her body. They dripped saliva, and baring their fangs they bit into her soft flesh.

* * *

A bloodcurdling scream erupted from her throat. She launched herself out of bed, clawing frantically at her clothes. She thought she saw thousands of tiny unblinking eyes watching her, surrounding her. Then she blinked again and it was just her scant apartment that she was looking at.

Her skin still crawled with the sensation of thousands of spiders on her skin. Chest heaving, Astrid hurriedly stripped off her clothes and jumped in the shower. She turned the knob and freezing cold water assaulted her. It ran over her skin and washed away the memory of the blood and the spiders.

After several minutes she shut the water off and wrapped a towel around her aching, frigid body. She slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands. Astrid didn't move again until crisp morning light streamed in through her window.


	13. Waiting for Superman

**A/N: Okay guys, I think we ALL know who I'm talking about when I say "superman"**

**Gunslinger21, I'm lookin' at you when I say this -_-**

**Joe, Lois Lane is out there, trust me :) I'm just you super badass heroine friend**

**ANimATion ImAgInAtIon, Brucey's out there too ;) he's just fighting off the bad guys right now to get to you.**

**JotunChick11,... please don't be an Astrid Hater for much longer. I know she was a bitch a couple of chapters ago but she'll change, I promise. **

**"Waiting for Superman" is totally my theme song. If I had a TV show about me, the opening credits would start with this song. Give it a listen and you'll see what I mean.**

* * *

_"She's talkin' to angels, counting the stars, makin' a wish on a passing car...  
And she's dancin' with strangers, falling apart...  
Waiting for superman to pick her up... in his arms... She's waiting for superman...  
__Save her now before it's too late tonight...  
She's waiting for superman..."-Daughtry_

_Peace._

It's the one thing she needed most, yet the one thing she never seemed to get.

Once the nightmares had faded to the back of her mind Astrid had felt a sense of clarity return to her. She rose, without purpose or direction, and began to dress and get ready for the day. She moved mechanically, acting more out of habit that anything else. Astrid's mind felt distant and far off, as though her body and soul were two separate beings trapped in the same flesh.

There was no work today, it being a Sunday, which meant Astrid had the whole day to herself. A whole day stuck alone with her nagging thoughts.

Astrid dressed in some skinny jeans and a green v-neck sweater, then pulled on a pair of brown lace-up boots. She ran a brush through her hair but otherwise didn't bother with her appearance. She wasn't planning on seeing anybody today so there was no point.

Moments later Astrid was seated at the kitchen table with a mug of warm coffee in her hands. She had her favorite picture of Miranda pulled out, the one where Miranda had one arm flung carelessly over Astrid's shoulder. Big mischievous grins were plastered on both their faces. The backdrop was that of a lush forest, with a hiking trail winding its way behind them and then disappearing over the crest of a hill. It'd been Astrid's 17th birthday and the girls had gone camping for the weekend. That was over ten years ago now. Might as well be a hundred.

A wave of nostalgia washed over her. Astrid lowered her head, her eyes watering briefly. Warm air and the scent of vanilla pumpkin spice wafted up from her coffee mug.

"When's the last time you've eaten?" Astrid could almost hear her friend ask, her face etched in reprimand and concern.

Astrid honestly didn't remember, but she wasn't hungry _now_ so she guessed it didn't matter. She drank the last of her coffee down in one quick gulp and winced at the empty feeling in her stomach. _I'll eat later,_ she thought stubbornly. Astrid needed something to do, and staying around the house wasn't helping her find peace or think any clearer. So she threw on a cream scarf and decided to head outdoors for a Sunday stroll.

Heavy grey clouds blanketed the cold November sky. A cool wind whipped her hair back from her face. The day being chill and dank, not many people were out and about save for the very foolish or brave of heart.

Astrid didn't care either way. Though goosebumps rose on her skin and her body shivered from the cold, Astrid barely noticed it. She walked with her hands jammed deep in her pockets, and her thoughts drawn just as deep into herself, as she headed down the lane. She thought of Stranger and felt a pang of regret in her heart.

_What have I done?_ she thought dismally.

She knew what she'd done. She'd pushed Stranger away, just like she pushed everyone else in her life away. Just like she had in her dreams. But Astrid was better off alone, right?

Or people were better off without Astrid.

Still, she'd been wrong to treat Stranger that way. Who knew what he thought of her now? Did it even matter? Astrid knew she deserved whatever he thought. She was a convoluted mess and she had no business infecting other people with her mere presence. Staying away from people provided an easy solution, but in regards to Stranger she still felt no peace of mind.

Admitting she was wrong was only part of the problem. There was only one way she could resolve this. No matter which way she turned it the answer was always the same. She needed to go and apologize.

This was the only way. She knew that if she didn't then her actions, her spiteful behavior, would haunt her til the end of her days. No joke. She would always wonder how things might have been, if only she'd had the guts to go and say she was sorry. Apologising was the hardest part though.

It wasn't pride or stubbornness that stayed her. No, rather it was her _humility_. Astrid _knew_ she'd done wrong, so how could she expect forgiveness? How could she face him again, after all the awful things she'd said? She certainly didn't deserve forgiveness. Not only for how she'd acted last night but also for all the other sins and dark crimes she'd committed. This had always been an issue between her and Miranda. After they'd argue, Astrid would _want_ to apologise, would know that she needed to, but she would never know how to tell her friend the truth.

Then at some point Miranda told it to her straight.

"No matter what Astrid, I'll always forgive you. You don't even ever have to ask me. I know where you're coming from though. Why it seems so hard to say the two words "I'm sorry". I mean, I used to feel the same way about it. Cuz Lord knows I've done plenty of wrongs that I don't deserve forgiveness for," she paused, a forgotten smirk still hanging from her lips. "But then I started thinking about it, and I saw things in a different light. When I've done wrong by somebody, and I'm sorry about it, I make sure I'm sorry for the right reasons. So rather than let guilt get the better of me I go to the person I've wronged and let them know what a fool I've been, and I tell them how sorry I am. Just to get it out there, ya know? Because if I never said anything then they'd never know I was sorry. They'd never know how I really felt about the situation. Then it would just get worse and worse, and I'd end up ruining a great friendship." She shrugged. "What's the harm in saying sorry? I mean, after that it's pretty much up to the person what they do with my apology. They can either take it or leave it. And I can breathe easy knowing that I made the effort to fix things."

Mandy was right, of course. Apologies shouldn't be that hard. Astrid had said some pretty cruel things to Stranger, she'd acted like a bitch, and she _was_ sorry for it. So she _should _go and apologise.

But with Stranger, things were just so complicated.

Maybe her nightmares were really trying to tell her something. Astrid had blood on her hands, she knew that. So much blood, so many wrongs. There was no need to pass that on to the sorcerer. Maybe it was better if Astrid withdrew now before her darkness left its mark on him. Before she tainted him with the blood of her past. Which would happen sooner or later if she kept hanging out with him. It was easier to remain alone.

_But what about your promise to Miranda?_

"I don't know!" Astrid yelled. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, gripping her head in her hands. Pigeons flew up, cooing loudly, distressed by the sudden noise. People gave her odd looks as they passed her by. Astrid could feel their gazes on her, driving like nails of accusation into the back of her skull.

_Creep. Weirdo. Crazy person._

"Oh God I need help," Astrid whispered.

She shook off the cold looks and continued walking down the sidewalk, this time with a destination in mind. Astrid used to visit this old cathedral when she was younger. She would go there with Miranda all the time. The place was only a few blocks down the road, not too far, and she figured that if she were to find the peace she sought then that would be a good start. It was too late for a service at this time but that was fine with Astrid. She didn't go to church for people anyways. She preferred rather to sit alone in the empty silence of the church and _think._ When the early afternoon sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, it lit the whole place in a beautiful array of ruby reds, sapphire blues, emerald greens, and sunrise oranges. If you sat still and quiet enough you could almost hear the faint echo of music playing from the rafters. It was pretty peaceful.

Astrid felt about as far from peaceful as she could possibly get. Which gave her a good reason to go and visit the old cathedral. That's why she needed to go there. Maybe, if she sat still and quiet for long enough, she'd be able to sort out her frazzled thoughts and get some clarity about her life. Astrid felt like she was trapped on a topsy-turvy rollercoaster and the brakes didn't work anymore. It was moving too fast, so fast that she wouldn't be surprised if her life turned upside-down one day and she would be dumped from the seat, only to fall into oblivion.

* * *

Astrid stood in the middle of the sidewalk, facing the imposing cathedral. A soft wind caressed her cheek and tangled itself in her hair. Most of the churchgoers had dispersed at this point, save for the few stragglers here and there who were hurriedly making their way to their cars. Astrid hunched her shoulders and ascended the steps. A familiar figure stood near the entrance, conversing quietly with the bespectacled priest. Astrid bowed her head and walked on past. She didn't want to attract attention to herself. Especially from Matt Murdock, or the man better known as Daredevil. The two vigilantes didn't often associate with each other in the daytime hours.

"Friend of yours?" She heard the priest ask as she entered the cathedral.

"You could say that," Matt replied vaguely. Astrid could almost feel his unseeing eyes on her back. She shivered, despite the stale warmth of the church.

Astrid walked along one of the outer aisles, her head bowed and her brows pinched in thought. Her rapid breaths came out sounding harsh and raspy in the empty silence. Her footfalls were the only other noise in this place. It was so quiet you could hear a bat ruffle its wings from across the room. Unsettling image that was.

Not that Astrid was afraid of bats. They were just kind of gross. She sighed and sank down into a pew that was situated about halfway down the aisle. There were plenty of things that she _was_ afraid of though. Her own dreams, for instance. She shivered again, this time from the memory of the spiders crawling all over her bare flesh.

Her thoughts of fear led her to think of the man outside. What must it be like to be a man without fear? Nothing could touch you, simply because you could _not_ feel it. Would it make you feel invincible? Powerful?

Or lonely?

It must be terribly lonely to be a man without fear.

Matt Murdock silently slid into the seat next to her. He absently rested his blood-red cane against the seat, then he lay his arm on the back of the pew. He leaned back, looking completely at ease.

"Well speakin' of the devil," Astrid drawled sarcastically. "I was just thinking about you."

"Good things I hope," Matt smirked, the light overhead glinting off his dark sunglasses. In all the time Astrid had known him, she had never seen him take those sunglasses off.

Astrid was surprised to see him here, but she hid it well behind a smirk he couldn't see. "I guess it depends on how you look at it," she sighed. Astrid leaned back into the pew as well, the wooden back digging uncomfortably into her spine. "So, what happened to 'guilty by association'? I thought you and I were supposed to avoid each other. At least in the daytime hours."

"Huh," Matt gave a coarse laugh. He removed his arm from the pew and instead clasped his hands between his knees, his gaze staring blankly ahead. "We're in a church Astrid, and an empty one at that," he said quietly. "I haven't seen Nightwatcher on the streets in awhile, so I was beginning to wonder if maybe she'd found what she was looking for."

Astrid flushed. Of course, Strange. Astrid didn't want to address that subject right now. And even if she did what could she say? _Yep I found what I was looking for and then totally blew it up last night._ The silence stretched on. Matt cocked his head slightly, sensing her hesitation. The golden light from the windows made red tints stand out in his dark brown hair.

Astrid lay her head back, her eyes searching the rafters for answers they couldn't give her. Dust motes drifted through the air. They swirled and danced about in a nonexistent wind.

"Mandy and I used to come here all the time," she whispered, amber eyes following the path of the dust motes.

"I know," Matt replied, just as quiet. "I remember how loud you used to be, how your girlish giggles disturbed the solemnity of the place," he continued on, getting just as lost in the memory as Astrid was. "The sound of your footfalls echoed as you both ran up and down the aisles. Every noise, every laugh, every breath, whispering and reverberating back to meet my ears. So that I could see you, without ever really seeing you." The corners of his mouth turned up in a sad smile. "This was your favorite church. You always used to say that."

Astrid closed her eyes. She could almost see it, six years ago, two innocent girls running up and down the aisles. They would have walked around the place, admiring the stained glass windows and the colorful tapestries. They would shout at the top of their lungs just to hear their voices echo back to them. The girls would stick close, each caught in a gravitational pull. One was never far from the other.

"It was," she said quietly. She opened her eyes to face her empty and joyless reality once again. She gripped the edges of her sweater, twisting the cloth nervously about her fingers. "I never really thanked you, for helping me out with the case..."

"You had a lot going on at the time," Matt said, turning to face her. She couldn't read the expression in his eyes behind those sunglasses though. "And, as I recall, we never really won the case," Matt sighed regrettably.

"No, we didn't," Astrid replied. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. "I still can't believe that the judge let those murderers go free!" she said angrily. "The evidence was clearly against them! I was the fucking witness!" She jabbed a finger at herself, rising from her seat, her form trembling with rage. "And they had the audacity to use my recent surgery as an excuse to let them go! They must have thought I was mentally retarded or something, that I wouldn't even recognize the bastards who killed my best friend!" she screamed.

A hand settled on her arm, silencing her. "Astrid," Matt said quietly. He stood and wrapped her in a hug. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "_Justice was served._"

That it was. Astrid remembered the night clearly, as if it had happened only yesterday. It was the evening following the case, which had been closed on the grounds of unclear details and insufficient evidence. In other words, their one and only witness had recently had brain surgery and so her testimony couldn't be trusted.

Astrid walked down the dark alleys, breathing evenly, knowing fully what she had to do in order to see justice. Bandages were still wrapped around her head from her recent surgery. She felt a pang in the back of her head, a prelude to an oncoming headache. Anger lay simmering just below the surface as Astrid clutched the pistol to her thigh. The lone streetlight flickered ominously as Astrid rounded the corner and entered the warehouse. She would be meeting the thugs here. She'd arranged a sort of showdown with them shortly after the trial was dismissed. Apparently the great Matthew Murdock wasn't great enough to get them locked behind bars. So Astrid had to take things into her own hands.

She knew that there were three of them and only one of her. She knew that she probably wouldn't make it out alive in this encounter. At this point though, she no longer cared if she lived or died. Those murderers were _guilty_, and they _knew_ they were guilty. Astrid knew it too. She'd been the one standing there when the bullet had been fired into her friends chest. There was no way in hell Astrid was letting them get off scot-free. Just because the law declared them innocent didn't mean they were. Astrid had to take justice into her own hands.

A bullet whizzed past her shoulder. Without blinking she raised the gun and fired twice. The thug, Tomas by name, went down like a felled oak. The other two, Jack and Murphy, rushed at her from opposite directions. That's when the Daredevil had first appeared, moving in a blur of crimson shadow. He took out first one thug, then finished off the other one by choking the life out of him with the tripwire in his retractable baton.

Astrid had frozen at the sign of first blood. Blood that _she'd_ spilt. She had killed someone. In a way she'd become just like the scumbag she'd murdered. This is the point where her life took a dramatic turn for the worse. Where everything began slowly but surely going down the drain. Astrid vowed she would never take a life again, if she could help it. Before leaving, Daredevil had clapped a firm hand on her shoulder, her form still trembling from shock.

"You're one of us now," he'd whispered.

Astrid returned to the present. She trembled slightly from exhaustion and angst. She sank back into the pew and Matt returned to his seat beside her.

"I found him Matt," she leaned her head back into the seat again, gazing distantly up at the ceiling. "I found the guy I was looking for."

"That's what I thought," Matt said, sounding a little sad. He smirked. "So, is he everything you were looking for?"

Under ordinary circumstances Astrid would have shoved him for that, but instead she just sat still and quiet. "No... Not really. I mean, it's not that," she said hurriedly. "I just, I don't really understand him I guess." She looked down at her open palms, thinking of how his hands had held hers, of his intense gaze, his soft smile... She sighed regretfully. "I want some answers from him, I want to find some clarity in my life... But I haven't been very patient with him."

"Let me guess, this guy got a firsthand look at a pissed off Astrid." He sounded almost proud of her.

Astrid nodded, still watching her hands. She traced the lines in her palm with the tip of her thumb.

"Yup. I messed up big time."

"So what are you gonna do now?"

"I don't know," she sighed audibly. "I mean, I was really banking on this working out. Not just getting answers, but maybe finding the cult _together_. Maybe teaming up and kicking some mystic ass."

"You don't like working alone," Matt stated, as though he'd just read her thoughts.

"I don't," Astrid admitted guiltily. She felt like she was revealing a dark secret about herself, a secret that even _she_ hadn't known about until just now. Sure, she'd worked alongside Daredevil and the Punisher before, but they'd never acted as partners. Never worked together as a _team_. For the most part, Astrid was alone. "I guess it just gets hard, after awhile," she said quietly. "To fight so long and so hard for something... and then feel like you're the only one fighting for it."

"I know," Matt's calm voice penetrated her thoughts. "That's why we make teams, get partners. We form a band of brothers to share the battles with, to fight the horrors, so we don't have to do it alone. Maybe it's time you found yourself someone to work with."

"Maybe," Astrid said pensively. "For a minute there, I thought I'd found one. But then I went and pushed him away." She hung her head, her blonde hair falling like a curtain over her features.

Matt grunted noncommittally. "Why exactly did you push him away?"

"Because I don't trust my feelings." Astrid said bluntly. She rose from the pew and Matt, sensing her absence, rose from his seat too. "Whenever I'm around him I don't know whether to be patient and talk to him nicely, get angry and insist my own way, or just act obnoxious and pretend like I don't have any problems. Mostly I end up just feeling confused. Which gets me frustrated, 'cuz if I'm confused then I feel weak. Vulnerable. I don't want to be weak. I _can't_ be. Not with what I have to do."

Astrid headed out into the center aisle, with Murdock following at her side. Astrid wasn't sure why she was telling him all this. It wasn't _his_ problem. But he had asked her, and Astrid knew she could trust Matt. After all, she'd known him for a long time. Since the beginning. The beginning of what seemed to be the end. Matt still hadn't responded.

"And we can't all be like you Matt," Astrid continued, lingering in the lobby rather than heading outside. "I'm afraid of the things I don't understand, and right now I don't understand my emotions. We can't all live without fear," she smirked, but in her heart she felt a steady throb of pain. The pain of loneliness, of living her life day by day knowing there was no escape from her reality, from the consequences of her decisions. She knew she had to go it alone. There was no happy future for her, no life full of love, with a husband and children. _This_ was her present, her past and her future. And she would remain in it until she died.

"So, because you're afraid, because you _allow_ yourself to fear, you'll deny yourself what you know you need most."

"What, love?" Astrid scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Companionship," Matt said quietly.

_He has a good point_, Astrid thought sadly. But she wasn't going to let _him_ know that. She pushed open the door and stepped outside, holding the door open for Matt. Immediately a cold breeze slammed into them, bringing with it the scent of autumn leaves, exhaust fumes, the scent of freshly fallen rain, and something herbal, like tea...

"Matt, even if I did need companionship there's not a person in their right mind who'd wanna-" And then the words died on her lips.

A dark-haired man stood at the bottom of the steps. He was looking up at them in slight confusion as though wondering _why _it was that he was here. A thin mustache lined his upper lip and a small goatee framed his chin. Piercing grey eyes regarded her and Matt thoughtfully.

"Stranger," Astrid whispered, shock registering on her features. Beside her Matt stiffened, as though sensing something new and interesting that he didn't quite know what to make of.

Strange came up one step, then paused. He glanced away, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"I was told by an old friend... to come here," His gaze met hers. "That someone was waiting for me."

A breath of silence stretched between them.

"I guess you're the one," he admitted softly.


End file.
